


Hapless Trouble

by brbsoulnomming



Category: Grimm (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Jealousy, M/M, Snapshots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-09
Updated: 2012-04-09
Packaged: 2017-11-03 08:06:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 22,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/379186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brbsoulnomming/pseuds/brbsoulnomming
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU where Hap lives, and Nick and Hap have a bromance. Monroe is secretly jealous, Nick and Hap are mostly oblivious, and Nick has to deal with the quirks that come with being best friends with two Blutbaden. </p><p>Written for a <a href="http://grimm-kink.dreamwidth.org/3689.html?thread=2140009#cmt2140009">prompt</a> over at the Grimm meme.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hapless Trouble

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Hapless Trouble](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5856739) by [Schwesterchen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Schwesterchen/pseuds/Schwesterchen)



> AU during _The Three Bad Wolves_ , obviously, though events still go along largely as they do in canon up until after _The Plumed Serpent_.

It’s pretty much dumb luck that has Nick at Monroe’s house early that morning. He’d been planning on going there later, of course, but he hadn’t been able to sleep that night, and he’d finally given up as dawn started breaking. He’d hesitated, because it would probably be the earliest he’d ever gone over to Monroe’s – and that was saying something – and while Monroe probably wouldn’t _really_ mind, there was always the chance that Angelina would be there. 

He had no real desire to see her this early in the morning, frayed from lack of sleep and probably not as well able to hold back his opinions on her involvement in this. 

But it was either that or sit in his kitchen, staring at his mug of coffee and trying not to worry, which is why he’s currently climbing out of his truck and heading towards Monroe’s house. And if he’d taken the precaution of parking down the block and wearing wolfsbane, well, he may be new at this Grimm thing, but he’s not _stupid_. 

There’s someone at Monroe’s front door when Nick reaches the house, and Nick’s hand is on his gun and his pace quickening even before he sees the man raise a gun of his own. 

“Hey!” Nick shouts, breaking out into a run, but the word is all but drowned out by the sound of a gunshot. 

“Police!” he yells, pitching his voice even louder. “Drop the gun!”

The man hears him this time, but instead of listening, he bolts. Which isn’t at all unexpected, and Nick tears after him. He’s out of the front yard and into the street before he realizes it’s either chase this guy down or help Hap, and he knows which one is more important at the moment. Nick skids to a stop, turning around to run back to Monroe’s house. 

Hap’s on his back on the floor just inside the door, Monroe’s Brown University shirt slowly turning red with blood. 

Nick calls it in, kneeling by Hap’s side and tearing off his jacket and hoodie as he requests immediate medical assistance. Hap’s breathing, and his pulse isn’t as strong as it should be, but not weak enough to cause Nick some serious panic. When Nick presses his hoodie against the wound, applying pressure, Hap’s eyes fly open, glinting red. 

“You’re okay,” Nick tells him. “It’s me, Hap, Detective Burkhardt. I’ve got help coming.” 

Hap seems to calm down a little at that, red fading slightly from his eyes. “Happened to the pig?” he grunts out.

Nick’ll wonder if he should be taking that literally later. “Chased him off. Getting you to a hospital’s more urgent right now.”

“M’good,” Hap assures him, but the hiss of pain says otherwise.

“Tell that to the gunshot wound,” Nick says. “I’m not leaving until I know you’re safe.” 

The red fades entirely from Hap’s eyes, and his head drops back on the floor. “Not gonna argue with that.”

Nick doesn’t ask him where Monroe is, though now that all he can do is wait for the ambulance, the question’s burning in his mind. 

But like he was reading his mind, Hap tilts his head back up at him, looking confused. “Where’s M’roe?”

“I don’t know,” Nick says, trying to combat concern over that fact. “I’m sure he’ll be back soon.” 

“He leave early, or you late?” Hap asks. 

It takes Nick a moment to figure out that he’s probably talking about some kind of shift change on ‘guard Hap’ duty. And a moment longer to try to figure out what to say to that. “I don’t know, but it’s not important right now. All that matters is getting you to a hospital and then taking down whoever did this.” 

Hap relaxes back against the floor again, though Nick’s not sure if that’s because he’s accepting that explanation or because he’s not up to arguing. 

But there’s no more time for conversation after that, because Nick can hear the sound of sirens blaring, and then all he has time for is making sure the EMTs take care of Hap and dealing with the crime scene. 

Nick’s climbing into the ambulance with Hap when he sees them, Monroe and Angelina flying out of the woods, unharmed, in the same clothes they’d worn last night, and getting stopped by the officers guarding the crime scene.

For a moment, he wants to pretend he hasn’t seen them, get into the ambulance and leave them to deal with this on their own.

But then Monroe catches his eye, and Nick can see the wide-eyed panic, the fear and worry and guilt, and Nick knows he can’t do that to him. 

“Monroe and Angelina are here,” he tells Hap. “We’ll get to the hospital as soon as we can.” 

He steps back down from the ambulance, snags another officer and asks him to ride with Hap to the hospital, then starts towards the edge of the crime scene. 

“Let them through,” Nick calls. 

The sun’s barely been up an hour, and already Nick’s exhausted. Somehow, he knows the day isn’t going to get any better. 

 

\---

 

It doesn’t. But no one dies, which means it isn’t as bad as it could have been. Orson’s safely in jail, and Angelina’s injured and gone, but Nick can’t dwell on that. He has Hap and Monroe to worry about. 

When it’s all over, Nick stops by the hospital to visit Hap. He’s awake, but he’s doped up on drugs and looks exhausted. 

“Hey, man, how’re you?” Nick asks as he stands next to the hospital bed.

“Alive,” Hap replies, giving him something that’s almost a grin. “Which is always good. Plus, man, this is some _nice_ shit.”

Nick feels a smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah, I made sure they gave you the good stuff.”

“Solid, bro, I appreciate it,” Hap says, like he actually believes him.

Nick feels a little guilty, but doesn’t want to explain that he was joking. “They tell you when you’re going to be out of here?”

“Dunno, man, soon, hopefully. Doc says the bullet missed my lung.” Hap smiles again. “My good luck, man, someone’s watching out for me. A _Grimm_ ’s watching out for me, who’d’ve thought. Hey, what happened to the pig? You get him?” 

“I arrested him,” Nick replies. “He’s in jail.”

Hap considers that for a moment. “They hate cops in jail, right?”

Orson’s not exactly a cop, but Nick nods anyway. “Yeah. And with the charges against him, he’s going to be there a long time.”

“Good,” Hap says, nodding in satisfaction. Then he frowns. “Monroe told me, man, about the pig’s brothers and shit, why he came after Rolf and was coming after me.” 

Nick’s not sure where Hap’s going with that, and he doesn’t really want to talk about Angelina – he hates that a killer got away – but he still nods. “Yeah.”

“Angelina gone?” Hap asks. 

“Yeah,” Nick says again, because he’s not sure what else to say.

For a moment, Hap looks tired, like the full weight of the day is actually hitting him. “Yeah.” He’s silent for a moment, then smiles. “She’ll send me a bottle of the good stuff from New Orleans. She always does.”

Nick doesn’t mention it’s probably not the best idea to tell a cop the likely whereabouts of a wanted murderer. Instead, he grabs a pad of paper and a pen from the stand by the hospital bed. “Monroe has my cell, but I’ll leave it with you, too. If you need anything, give me a call.”

Hap grins at him. “Thanks, bro. Never figured I’d see the day this happened, but s’kinda nice. I could get used to it.” 

He sounds like he’s starting to fall asleep, so Nick just scrolls his number on the hospital pad and leaves Hap to get his rest. 

When Hap’s released from the hospital, he goes back to sleeping on Monroe’s couch. That lasts a couple of weeks before Monroe’s complaints about Hap start to actually turn a little bit real and get tinged with a slight hint of desperation. After a few too many of those, Nick offers his place. Juliette’s not thrilled, but she can’t turn Hap out when he doesn’t really have anywhere else to go. So Hap takes up residence in their guest room, and if this happens to come soon after an ogre breaks into Nick’s house and lands him in the hospital, Nick pretends not to notice.

Hap’s there for a few weeks before he moves back to Monroe’s, citing the strain of having to keep everything “such a goddamn _secret_ , man.” Nick can’t blame him. He’s starting to feel the same way. 

 

\---

 

Monroe and Hap last a little bit longer this time as roommates. Long enough that by the time Hap makes the switch back to Nick’s place, it _is_ just Nick’s place. It’s too much for Juliette, Nick’s inability to get a complete handle on his new life, on the combination of the way things were and the way things have to be. Nick’s not surprised, but the fact that he expected it doesn’t really make it hurt that much less. 

Nick doesn’t admit it, but he’s somewhat grateful to have Hap there. The house seems too big and empty, when it’s just him. Hap seems much more comfortable this time around, possibly due to the fact that he’s free to talk about Grimm stuff as much as he wants. Which is a lot, actually, Hap seems completely at ease about the fact that he’s a Blutbad rooming with a Grimm. 

A couple of days after Hap moving back in, Nick gets off work a little earlier than usual, and comes home to find a brown wolf in his living room. 

Nick stares for a moment, still in the entryway, mind trying to process the sight of a huge wolf sprawled out over his couch, watching _World’s Dumbest_ on TV. 

“Huh,” Nick says.

The wolf – Hap – looks up at the sound of his voice, then hops off the couch and heads over, tail wagging. 

“Have a good day?” Nick asks, because if there’s one thing he’s learned as both a cop and a Grimm, it’s to roll with the unexpected. 

Hap sits in front of him, close enough to touch, and tilts his head for a moment before nodding.

On impulse, Nick reaches out to rest his hand on Hap’s head. Hap pushes at his hand, moving so Nick’s fingers are behind Hap’s ear, and Nick takes the hint and scratches. Hap’s tail picks up its wagging, and Nick adds his other hand so he’s scratching behind both ears. 

Hap lets out a pleased huff, and after a few moments of that, plops down on the floor, stretching out and then rolling over onto his back. 

“You sure you’re a Blutbad and not an overgrown puppy?” Nick asks, digging his fingers into the thick, fluffy fur over Hap’s chest and scratching. 

Hap gives him a look, but his tongue is lolling out, so Nick can’t really tell if Hap is trying to glare at him or not. It doesn’t matter, though, because he doesn’t do anything but wag his tail while Nick scratches him, and then rolls back onto his feet when Nick stops. 

“I’m thinking barbeque tonight, since I got off when it’s still light. You interested?” Nick asks.

This time, the look Hap gives him is a very obvious ‘duh,’ and Nick chuckles. 

“Yeah, yeah. Go turn back, then, you can’t appreciate barbeque sauce like that,” Nick tells him. 

Hap gives his tail another wag, and then disappears upstairs. A few minutes later he comes back down, completely human and tugging on a tank top. “Let’s do this, man. What’re we having?”

“I’ve got chicken and pork chops in the fridge,” Nick replies. “Your choice.”

“That’s never a choice, bro, it’s always pork,” Hap informs him.

“I thought you’d say that. Good thing I started the marinade this morning, then.” He heads into the kitchen, calling over his shoulder, “Grab the beers?”

Hap follows him, waiting until Nick pulls out the container of pork chops and bowl of sauce before snatching a six pack out of the fridge. 

Then they’re out in the backyard, and Nick fires up the grill while Hap pops open two bottles of beer, handing him over one. 

“I can’t believe Monroe got you drinking these, man,” Hap says, taking a swig of his microbrew.

Nick makes a face. “Why do you assume that? What, I can’t have good taste in beer all on my own?” 

“Good taste in beer? Bro, I was giving you the benefit of the doubt, assuming you just got started on this expensive shit because of Monroe.” Hap makes a face back at him. “Oh, man, don’t. Don’t tell me you were all into this before you met him. You’re gonna ruin a perfectly good thing here, Nick, because I’m not going to be able to talk to you anymore.” 

“You’ll talk to me because I’m the one that gives you barbeque,” Nick retorts, flipping over the pork chops.

“No way, dude, not even your sauce will make up for that,” Hap says.

Nick picks off a stray bit of pork, a little piece sticking off the end of one of the chops and cooking faster than the rest of them, and holds it out to Hap. Hap takes it automatically, popping it into his mouth and licking his fingers. 

“What?” Hap asks, after a moment of Nick just looking at him with a raised eyebrow.

“You’re still talking to me,” Nick points out. 

“Oh, that. Yeah, I’m too good of a guy to hold that against you,” Hap tells him graciously.

“Uh-huh,” Nick says. “And it has nothing to do with barbeque.”

“Nope,” Hap says cheerfully. “Live and let live, my brother, sweating the small stuff just makes you – hey, that piece is perfect, man, I know that smell, can I have it?”

And see, the thing is, sometimes Nick forgets Hap is a Blutbad. Not _really_ , of course, it’d be kind of hard to actually forget that when he gets off work to find a giant wolf in his house, but when they’re like this, chatting about nothing and drinking beers while barbequing, it’s too easy to just not think about it. 

It’s not that Nick’s thinking about it constantly when he’s with Monroe, or anything, but with Monroe, there’s – Nick can _see_ , how hard he works to control it, how determined Monroe is to never be the thing in people’s nightmares, how much he sacrifices to make sure he never, ever hurts anyone. Nick watches him try so hard to be a good person, a good man, and Monroe can’t see that he already is. Nick has never met a better man, a stronger man, and that knowledge is all wrapped up in everything Monroe is, in everything Nick feels for him, in the friendship they have that became the most important relationship in Nick’s life in a matter of months. 

Everything just seems to come easy for Hap, though, so easy that sometimes it’s hard to remember that he must be fighting some instincts as well. 

Nick wonders what it says about his life, that his two closest friends outside of work are people who routinely grow fangs and fur, who might be having to fight the urge to rip out his throat every time they hang out.

And then he realizes that it doesn’t say anything at all, because he’s a person who routinely sees what no one else should, who should theoretically be fighting the urge to cut off their heads every time they hang out. But he’s never once felt that urge, and he’s never once felt as though he was in any danger of having his throat ripped out, and if he’s honest with himself, he can’t ever believe Monroe or Hap even really think about it.

When he grins at Hap and goads him into admitting that he _likes_ the expensive shit, under pain of not getting a second beer; when he thinks about the extra coffee he knows Monroe will have made for him in the morning, in case Nick stops by; when he thinks about Hap curled up as a wolf on his couch, tail wagging and tongue lolling, and Monroe bitching at the late time, but reaching eagerly for whatever Nick’s asking him to look at, all excitement and tangential rambles until Nick can’t help but smile at him fondly, all Nick really knows is that he doesn’t know what he’d do without them. 

 

\---

 

“Why haven’t I ever seen your wolf form?” Nick asks Monroe the next morning, as they’re having coffee before Nick has to head to work. 

Monroe’s in the middle of taking a sip from his mug, and he sputters slightly, not quite choking, but giving a slight cough before swallowing down his coffee.

Nick’s timing wasn’t _quite_ intentional, but the end result is entertaining, anyway, and he fights a smile. 

Monroe glares at him. “You’re not funny. What the hell brought that on? You’ve never asked before.”

Nick shrugs. “I figured you had reasons, or maybe it was a Blutbad thing, you know, not to do it in front of non-Blutbaden. But Hap doesn’t seem to have a problem with it, so it’s probably not that.” 

Monroe freezes in the middle of bringing his mug up to his lips. “You saw Hap in wolf form?”

“Yeah. He hangs out like that at the house sometimes.” Nick frowns. “Why, is that a bad thing?”

“No, it’s just-” Monroe cuts off, staring into his coffee. “Surprising, I guess. But not really, since it’s Hap.”

Monroe sounds vaguely annoyed, which only deepens Nick’s frown.

“Is it a Blutbaden thing, not to be a wolf in front of not-Blutbaden, then?” Nick asks.

Monroe shrugs. “I guess. For normal Blutbaden, anyway, being wolf around a human probably means that human’s going to get eaten. But it’s different for Weider Blutbaden. It doesn’t really surprise me that Hap’s in his wolf form a lot.”

“I don’t know about a lot,” Nick says. “I’ve only seen him once. Is it the same for you?”

“What? I – no. Weider Blutbaden are – well, it’s different for all of us. I… don’t do it. Much. At all.” Monroe takes a drink of coffee, like he’s already forestalling Nick’s inevitable question.

Nick asks anyway. “Why?” 

Monroe shrugs. “There’s a couple of reasons.”

Nick sips his coffee, watching him patiently.

“You never know when to just let things go, do you?” Monroe asks, then sighs. “You know I have to control it, Nick. Being wolf, it’s a lot tied up with instincts and that other side, and I worry if I take wolf form, it’ll become harder to control, even when I’m human.” 

“You worry?” Nick says. “But you don’t know for sure.”

Monroe glares at him. “It’s not like I’m going to _test_ it.”

“It doesn’t seem to be a problem for Hap,” Nick says.

“Not all of us are Hap,” Monroe snaps, then looks slightly guilty. 

Nick’s quiet for a moment, then hesitantly offers, “You could test it with me around.”

“That won’t help,” Monroe mutters, then shakes his head. “It’s not worth the risk, Nick. Besides, that’s not the only reason. I don’t like being around people like that.”

That’s a lie. Not a complete one, but Nick can tell when Monroe is hiding a lie in an almost truth, and he frowns. But he doesn’t call him on it, because this isn’t something Nick really wants to push Monroe about, not when he obviously doesn’t want to talk about it.

“Anyway, there’s not really a point to doing it. I’m not going to go around outside like that, and there’s no reason to just be a wolf inside my house, by myself,” Monroe says.

Nick also doesn’t call attention to the fact that ten seconds ago, Monroe had said he doesn’t like people being around him as a wolf, and now he’s saying there’s no point if he’s by himself. 

But Nick not saying anything seems to make Monroe want to ramble, because he keeps going.

“Shouldn’t you be encouraging me _not_ to fully Blutbad out, anyway? You’re a Grimm, man, I know you’re kind of new at this and you’re not exactly traditional, but I figure that should just be Grimm 101. ‘Don’t encourage the predator Wesen to go completely animal just to see what’ll happen.’ Actually, that’s not Grimm 101, that’s common sense 101. Grimm 101 is probably ‘Cutting off heads and you: how decapitation is the solution to all your problems.’ Or maybe ‘101 things to do with a Wesen head after you’ve chopped it off.’ I hear using the skull as a candy bowl is in.” 

Monroe stops, possibly because Nick is just smiling at him, fond and amused.

“What?” Monroe asks, somewhere between grumpy and defensive.

“I think we need to have that conversation again about how you should start ending your rambles one sentence sooner,” Nick tells him.

Monroe’s expression settles on grumpy. “Shut up. Drink your coffee, or you’ll be late for work.”

“Yes, dear,” Nick replies. 

Monroe makes a face at him, but Nick just finishes his coffee, tells Monroe he should come over for dinner that night, and leaves for the station.

He’s still curious about the wolf thing, but like he said before, he figures Monroe will tell him when he’s ready. 

 

\---

 

The second time Nick comes home to Hap in wolf form, it’s past midnight, and the Blutbad is curled up on the couch, asleep, with _Pawn Stars_ on the television. Nick’s exhausted, so he just smiles, shakes his head, and heads upstairs to shower before face-planting into bed. 

He’s out of the shower and toweling himself off when the door – which apparently he’d not only forgotten to lock, but didn’t even latch properly – is nudged open, and Hap’s big wolf head peeks through the gap. 

Nick stands there, towel half over his head where he’d been drying his hair, and just stares at him for a moment. Then he pulls the towel off, raises an eyebrow, and asks, “Can I help you?” 

Hap tilts his head, like he’s considering that question, then sneezes and pulls his head back out of the bathroom. 

Nick waits for a moment, then finishes drying off, wraps the towel around his waist, and heads to the bedroom to pull on pajama bottoms and a tee-shirt. After that, he goes back downstairs, where Hap – now human – is sitting on the couch, actually watching the television. 

“You get lonely or something?” Nick asks.

Hap laughs. “Nah, man, just checking to see where you were. I could smell that you’d come back, but you weren’t down here.” 

It probably says something about Nick’s life that he doesn’t even bat an eye at that explanation. “Next time scratch at the door or something to give me a little warning, will you?”

Hap’s brows furrow in confusion for a moment, then smooth out. “Oh, dude, totally. I forget you can’t hear me coming.” 

Nick snorts softly. “Yeah, yeah. Rub it in. I’m going to bed, man, I’ll see you in the morning.”

Hap salutes him with a beer, attention turning back to the television. 

Nick drags himself back up the stairs, fighting exhaustion until he’s able to crawl into his bed. Then he gives into it, sprawling on his back, half asleep as soon his head hits the pillow. He drifts for a while, caught in that state between sleeping and being awake where everything is fuzzy and content. It’s his day off tomorrow, which means he isn’t even going to set his alarm, just sleep himself out. His blankets are soft, bed comfortable, and he hasn’t spent nearly enough time in it lately. 

Except it’s cold, and even though he knows his body heat will warm it soon enough, he wishes he had someone next to him. He turns over onto his side, imagining someone there to curl around, the strong line of a warm back pressed against his chest. It doesn’t surprise him at all that the person doesn’t stay vague and nameless very long, but quickly becomes Monroe that he’s curling up to. 

Or maybe it does surprise him, maybe it should, but he’s too far from awake to worry about anything like that, to do anything but wish the half formed image in his head was actually real. He’d slide an arm around Monroe’s waist, palm resting flat on his stomach, shift close enough that he could rest his forehead against the back of Monroe’s head. Monroe’d turn, rolling over to face him, bringing his own arm around Nick’s waist. He’d tilt his head down so their foreheads were touching, eyes closed, and Nick would close his own eyes, hand smoothing over Monroe’s back, stilling at the dip in his spine. 

It occurs to Nick to wonder if Monroe would let him, or if he’d shift away from any form of touch there. Nick likes to think – he hopes – that Monroe trusts him enough to know that Nick would never use that particular vulnerability against him. He’d never use any vulnerability against him, really, but especially not that one, the one spelled out in his books like it’s every Grimm’s first step in a How To Decapitate Blutbaden guide. (He says _like_ , but it’s not like that at all, it _is_ that.) 

But maybe it’s not a trust thing, maybe any sort of touch there is uncomfortable – either physically or mentally. Maybe it’s just something Blutbaden don’t do, don’t like, though if that’s the case, there’s no little bit of disappointment there, because when Nick imagines lying like this with Monroe, imagines sliding his arms around him while they’re standing, pulling him in for a kiss – all of the things Nick never lets himself think about when he’s not so close to sleep – the small of Monroe’s back is the spot where Nick instinctively rests his hand. 

Fortunately, this is Nick’s dream, and in Nick’s imagination, he can do whatever the hell he wants.

So he falls asleep to the imaginary press of Monroe’s forehead against his and Nick’s hand at Monroe’s back, and even though he knows the increase in warmth is only his own body heating up the sheets, he lets himself think otherwise. 

 

\---

 

“You know I’d never use it against you, right?” Nick asks, in between munching on one of the onion rings he’d brought to share with Monroe on Nick’s lunch break.

Monroe raises an eyebrow at him. “Your questions can be really annoying, but they generally make some kind of sense.”

“Your back,” Nick clarifies. “The Blutbad vulnerable spot.”

“Uh. Okay. Thanks for that, he said, staring in bemusement.” Monroe raises his eyebrows. “What brought this on?” 

Nick thinks about his half-dream last night, and briefly entertains the thought of nonchalantly telling Monroe about it, just to see his reaction. But even Nick’s not that much of a trolling jerk, especially not when there’s the chance Monroe might take him seriously, when there’s an even bigger chance that Nick might actually be serious. So instead he shrugs. “Just something I was thinking about. I read about it in the books, and I realized I wasn’t even sure if you knew that I know about it. I do. Know about it, that is, but I’d never use it, not against you. I just wanted to make sure you knew.” 

Monroe’s giving him that half-smile he does when he’s not quite ready to give up pretending to be grumpy enough to make it a full smile. “Nick, if I thought you’d actually use it against me, I never would have let you guard it at the Lowen Games. Fighting back to back might be kind of a thing for humans, but for Blutbaden, it’s pretty much the ultimate measure of – huh, okay, yeah, I can see the merit of this ‘ending your rambling one sentence sooner’ thing.” 

“No, actually, I think you ended that one too soon. Please, tell me more about what it’s an ultimate measure of,” Nick teases, but he knows his smile is too wide and fond to match the tone. 

Monroe rolls his eyes, taking another onion ring, but he’s looking at it when he says, “You know I trust you, Nick.” 

“I wasn’t sure, actually,” Nick says. “I mean, I figure by now, you know I’m not going to cut off your head or anything, but I wasn’t sure if you’d trust me with that. I didn’t think about the Lowen Games thing.” 

Monroe quirks a bit of a smile. “Well, next time think about things before asking another one of your weird, awkward questions.” He takes a bite of the onion ring. “You know, you never told me how you found me.” 

“Oh, I, uh. After your call broke off, I left the crime scene and hightailed it to where you’d said you were supposed to meet them. I got there just in time to find some guy leaving the scene in your car, so I pulled him out and… persuaded him to tell me where they’d taken you,” Nick says. 

Monroe’s staring at him now, a strange expression on his face, and Nick frowns at him.

“What?” he asks. 

Monroe flicks his eyes away, looking not quite embarrassed. “Nothing.” Then, “You left a crime scene for me?”

“You’d been taken by people who we knew were picking up Wesen and forcing them to kill each other,” Nick comments dryly. “Yeah, I left a crime scene for that.” 

Monroe’s silent for a moment. Then he says quietly, “I always thought you’d come. If nothing else, I thought – he does this all the time, he almost always saves the day, he’d do it for anyone, so he’ll do it for me.”

There’s a million things Nick could say to that, most of them revolving around the things he’s not quite sure he feels, things he’s too scared to actually say. Eventually he settles on, “I didn’t do it because I’d do it for anyone.” 

“I figured that out when you jumped weaponless into a caged death match,” Monroe says, giving him a look. “Which, by the way, still wasn’t the smartest thing you ever did.”

“I’ll remember that next time,” Nick says dryly. 

There’s a few moments of quiet crunching, then Monroe says quietly, “Thanks. No one’s ever done something like that for me.”

Nick forces himself to stay out of Monroe’s personal space. Well, to at least not get more in his personal space than he usually does, which some people might consider already a fairly large amount. “Now you have someone who will.”

The gratitude and affection is obvious in Monroe’s expression for a few moments, before it settles on exasperated. “It says something about our lives that we both assume you’ll have to do something like that again.”

“Hey, I tried to give you the option to back out. You were the one who said fuck the status quo,” Nick tells him with a grin. 

Monroe makes a face at him. “I said ‘screw,’ thank you. And don’t you have a job to get back to? Some vital detecting to do?”

“You just want to kick me out and eat the rest of the onion rings yourself,” Nick says.

“Yup,” Monroe agrees unashamedly.

Nick grins. “Jerk. All right, I’m out.” He grabs a handful of onion rings with a smirk, then gives Monroe a wave with his free hand as he heads out of the kitchen. “I’ll call you later.” 

 

\---

 

Hap usually isn’t awake when Nick gets up, even on Nick’s days off. Probably because although Nick does sleep in an hour or two later on those days, unless there’s been a case or something sucking up all of his sleep – which, granted, has been happening more and more lately – and forcing him to make up for it on his time off, Nick still gets up fairly early to go jogging in his favorite of Portland’s parks. 

But this morning, as Nick’s tromping downstairs in sweats and a hoodie, he hears someone rustling around in the kitchen. He finds Hap there, opening up cupboards and the fridge and staring intently into them, like he’s not quite sure everything’s the same in the early morning. 

“Hey, Hap,” he greets, surprised. “You’re up early.” 

“Couldn’t sleep,” Hap grunts. “Getting restless, you know? I gotta get out and do something today, man.”

Nick considers that. “I’m going jogging, if you want to come?”

Hap makes a face. “Jogging? Not really my thing, bro.”

Nick shrugs. “Suit yourself, man. Don’t destroy the house or anything, okay? I’ll be at Gabriel Park if you-”

“Woah, woah,” Hap cuts him off. “You didn’t say anything about the park. If you’re going running in the park, I’m there. Just give me a minute to go change.”

“Don’t take too long!” Nick calls after him as Hap heads out of the kitchen. Nick grabs a bottle of water, then walks to the front door to put on his sneakers. 

He’s tying up the laces when Hap comes back, now as a wolf. 

Nick blinks at him. “When you said _change_ -” He cuts off and shrugs. “Sure, why not. Come on, let’s go running.” 

He heads out to his car, opening the door for Hap to jump up in the backseat, and drives down to the park. It’s early enough that the park’s not very busy, so he has no reservations about letting Hap out of the car and walking into the park. 

“Stay close, okay?” Nick says. 

Hap wags his tail, and Nick starts off at a light jog, Hap easily keeping up. As they get deeper into the park, Nick picks up the pace, and Hap lopes along by his side. 

“Hey, man,” Nick huffs out. “There’s no one around here, if you wanna veer off a little bit, go ahead. Just be careful, and come back if you see anyone.” 

Hap gives a short bark, and then turns off the path, darting through the woods. Nick keeps running on the path, keeping an eye on the glimpses of fur he can see through the trees as Hap runs around. 

They’ve been out there for just over half an hour when Hap bursts suddenly out of the trees and onto the path, running fast enough that he can’t quite skid to a stop and instead ends up crashing into Nick, knocking them both over. 

Nick’s laughing as Hap struggles to his feet, pushing at Hap’s shoulders and trying to detangle them, but his laughter stops as a woman emerges slowly from the spot that Hap’d come from, holding a gun. The gun’s pointed down at the ground, but that doesn’t stop Nick from changing his pushing from trying to get Hap off him to trying to get Hap behind him. 

Then Nick notices the badge on the woman’s belt, the way her eyes widen in panic when she spots Nick and Hap on the ground, and tentatively re-evaluates the situation.

“It’s okay!” Nick calls back. “He’s my dog, he just knocked me over.” 

The officer pauses, staring at them with still a hell of a lot of fear, but also a little bit of skepticism. “That’s your _dog_?”

“Yes,” Nick says, finally extracting himself from the giant fluffy Blutbad on top of him and standing. He shoots Hap a warning look, pleading with him to play along. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think anyone else was out here.” 

The officer’s skepticism is overwhelming her concern now, as she raises an eyebrow at him. “Hell of a dog.” 

“He may look fierce, but he’s just a big softie,” Nick says, looking down at Hap. “Aren’t you, boy?”

Hap wags his tail, letting his tongue hang out of his mouth, and then sits by Nick’s side. 

“I’m Detective Nick Burkhardt,” Nick says, lifting his hoodie slightly to reveal his own badge. “And this is Hap. We were just out for a jog, officer, I’m really sorry. We didn’t mean to worry anyone.” 

The officer stares at both Nick and Hap, but her eyes soften at Nick’s disarming smile and Hap’s lolling tongue and fluffy tail. “You know the licensing laws, detective,” the officer says. “They’re made partially so things like this don’t happen, especially with a big guy like that.” 

Nick ducks his head sheepishly. “Yes, ma’am, I know. I should’ve turned back when I realized I left his collar back home, but he just loves running out here with me so much.” 

Hap whuffs happily, thrusting his nose into Nick’s hand until Nick tousles his ears, and then Hap’s tail wags even harder. 

The officer’s expression softens further. “Just keep him with you on your way out of here, okay?” 

Nick’s smile brightens. “Yes, ma’am.”

“And get out of here before you run into someone else who may not be as much of a dog lover as I am,” she adds. 

“We will, ma’am,” Nick assures her. “Come on, Hap.” 

He starts jogging back the way he came, Hap sticking close to his side for the entire trip back to the car. When they get back into the house, Nick goes into the kitchen for another bottle of water while Hap heads upstairs to change back.

“Well, that was fun while it lasted,” Nick says, when Hap comes back down, regret obvious in his tone. It _was_ fun; he’d liked having Hap out there with him. 

Hap frowns at him. “What’re you talking about?”

“You heard the officer,” Nick says. “We can’t risk that again, next time we might run into someone who’s not as understanding about your lack of tags.”

Hap waves a hand dismissively. “Oh, bro, whatever. We’ll take care of that. I’ll pick up one of those black leather things, with the little spikes. It’ll be wicked.”

Nick stares at him. “You’re going to wear a collar, just so you can go running with me in the park?”

Hap looks taken back. “Dude. It’s not _just_ , it’s – it’s _running_ with you, bro. That’s like, I haven’t done that since before, you know, since _before_.” He puts an emphasis on that word, nodding knowingly. “Sure it’s different, I mean, no one’s eating anyone –” He pauses. “Not that I miss that part at all, man, me and Monroe were never all that into it, you know, that’s the reason we went straight when no one else did, but it’s still running with pack. Like a stupid thing like tags would stop that.” 

Nick feels something warm curling in his chest, and fights the urge to smile. It only works because he’s still really confused. “I’m pack?”

“Duh,” Hap says, laughing slightly. “We’re bros, man. Not to mention you saved my life, and took care of the guy that did it.”

Nick considers that for a moment. “Does Monroe know?”

Hap makes another dismissive gesture. “Monroe’s Monroe, dude, you know how he gets. He’s weird about this stuff. Way too uptight, if you ask me, he needs to start being a lot more zen about shit. But whatever works for him, you know? We all gotta work it out somehow or another.” 

Nick tries to sort through that to figure out if Hap actually answered his question. “So he doesn’t know?”

“He has issues with the pack thing, you know, since that’s what got us in trouble back in the day. I keep trying to tell him, man, bro, this is a _Grimm_ , it’s like the best solution. But he just tells me I don’t understand anything and kicks me out,” Hap says. 

“So he does know?” Nick tries again.

“Yeah, he knows, but the question is, does he _know_.” Hap nods his head solemnly, like he’s just said something profound. 

“Yeah, that… is the question,” Nick replies, giving up. 

Hap claps him on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, bro, family’ll sort itself out. We can always sic one of the kids on him if we need to.” He wanders off into the living room. 

Nick shakes his head, but does appreciate the reminder that he’d been planning on dropping by to see Hanson and Gracie today, and maybe now he’ll swing by and visit Holly and Roddy as well. Nick starts up the coffee maker, and thinks that at least Hap’s right about one thing. They are a family. 

A strange, complicated family, but still a family. 

 

\---

 

There’s no one home when Nick stops by Monroe’s house after he gets off work, which is troubling. Monroe’s _always_ home, or at least, he’s been home every time Nick’s gone over there, which is pretty much the same thing. 

It’s enough to make him worry, especially when he calls Monroe’s phone and doesn’t get an answer. Nick’s debating using his spare key to get in when he hears something moving by the side of the house. He tenses, one hand on his gun, then moves quickly over, peeking around the wall.

And spots a wolf, shoulders hunched and low to the ground, obviously trying to slink by without being seen. 

“Monroe?” Nick asks, surprised. 

Nick hadn’t been sure it was him, but the wolf jerks his head in Nick’s direction at the sound of his name, and Nick recognizes Monroe’s eyes almost immediately. 

“Hey, man,” Nick greets, smiling brightly. “I thought you didn’t do the wolf thing.” 

Monroe hunches in on himself further, ears flicking back against his head, and Nick feels guilty. 

“No, dude, I didn’t mean – I just meant it’s cool, getting to see it,” Nick says. 

And then he notices that the window on the side of the house is open, enough for a wolf to fit through, spots the freshly trampled plants under it, and follows the path to where Monroe’s standing. Which means Monroe had been inside when Nick had been knocking, and he’d jumped out the window and tried to get by without being seen, to – 

“Oh,” Nick says, trying not to be too disappointed at the realization. “You were trying to avoid me.”

Monroe whines softly. 

“No, it’s fine. I get it, you told me that you didn’t like being around people like this, I shouldn’t have… I’ll just go, leave you to it.” 

He backs off, turning to leave, but Monroe lunges forward, closing his teeth gently around the hem of Nick’s jacket and tugging slightly. 

Nick hesitates. “I can stay?” 

Monroe lets go of his jacket and nods.

Nick smiles, brighter than the one before. “Should I let us in?”

Monroe nods again, and Nick unlocks the front door, waiting for Monroe to pad into the house before following him, shutting and locking the door behind him. 

“Can I…?” Nick asks, reaching out and stopping just shy of putting his hand on Monroe’s head.

Monroe watches him for a long moment, then lets out a huff and pushes his head into Nick’s hand. Nick strokes tentatively over his head, then, as Monroe stands patiently next to him, down his neck and over his back. He repeats the motion a few times, sinking his fingers into Monroe’s fur, watching Monroe’s eyes slip shut and his head tilt slightly to the side. 

After a few minutes, Nick steps back, and Monroe shakes his head, his tail wagging ever so slightly. Nick grins at him, and Monroe huffs again, turning his back on him to head upstairs. A few minutes later, a fully human and fully clothed Monroe comes back down, looking uncertain.

Nick thinks about waiting for Monroe to break the silence, then decides against it and asks, “Beers and a movie?”

“Don’t you have beers in your own fridge?” Monroe grumbles, but he disappears into the kitchen and returns with a pair of bottles, handing one to Nick. 

He heads into the living room, switching on the TV and dropping onto the couch, and Nick settles next to him.

“Thanks,” Nick says quietly, after a few minutes of silent TV watching.

Monroe turns to look at him. “Are you actually thanking me for me giving you my beer and a spot on my couch? Because that might be a minor miracle.” 

“No, I meant – shut up, I thank you for that. Anyway, I mean for the wolf thing. I know you don’t do it often, and it means a lot, that you let me see it. Even if it was unintentional, at first,” Nick tells him. 

Monroe stares at him, then rolls his eyes. “Nick, you’re not supposed to _thank_ a Blutbad for wolfing out on you. You’re supposed to run in terror, or in your case, try to kill it.” 

Nick rolls his eyes right back at him. “It’s _you_. I’ve never been scared of you, and I’ve definitely never wanted to try to kill you.”

“Right, except the first time we met, when you chased me into my house and threw me onto my stairs,” Monroe says. 

“Hey, I was almost entirely cop back then, barely any Grimm at all,” Nick says. “There’s no way I would have tried to kill you at all, let alone while you were in custody.” 

“Yeah, I guess handcuffing me and putting me in the back of a police car was better than trying to kill me,” Monroe comments. 

Nick winces slightly. “I’m still sorry about that, really.”

Monroe waves him off. “I’m over it. And it ended up working out well, anyway.”

“Ended up working out well?” Nick repeats, frowning a bit. 

Monroe looks a little uncomfortable. “My life would be a lot different without you in it, I meant.”

Nick snorts. “Yeah, it’d be a lot less dangerous, with much fewer opportunities for you to get beaten up.”

And now Monroe’s shifting his weight, looking even more uncomfortable. “Not necessarily.” 

Nick raises an eyebrow. “Really, your life as a clock maker was going to get you beat up?”

“I’m not just a clock maker, Nick, I’m a Blutbad. There’s dangers just in that, especially since I’m a Weider Blutbad. And there’s some things that would’ve happened with or without you.” He stares out the living room window, looking resigned. “Might have gone with Angelina, if I didn’t have a better reason not to, and there’s no way that would have ended well.”

That honestly surprises Nick. He hadn’t realized he’d been a factor in Monroe’s decision there, though he guesses being friends with a Grimm _would_ be encouragement not to go with a murderous Blutbad. “I don’t think you needed me for that, Monroe. You already made that decision once, and you were strong enough to walk away back then.”

Monroe snorts, but the sound isn’t at all amused. “Yeah, and look how quickly I gave in when she came back, despite knowing what the consequences might have been.” 

Nick’s quiet for a moment. Then he says, “Hap’s fine, Monroe.”

“Because of you,” Monroe says, staring at his beer now. “If you hadn’t been there, hell, if I _had_ -”

“Don’t do that to yourself,” Nick interrupts. “Dwelling on stuff like that’s not going to help, man. I should know, I have enough ‘if’s for the both of us.” 

His tone is joking, trying to lighten the conversation, but Monroe looks up at him, frowning, and snorts again. 

“Do I even want to know what kind of ‘if’s a Grimm has?” Monroe asks. 

Nick considers that, then decides to answer honestly. “That’s one of them, to start. What if I wasn’t a Grimm? Or what if my parents had told me? What if I’d gotten to my aunt earlier, that night at the hospital, what if I’d made it so she had a little bit more time, a little bit longer to tell me what was going on? What if I’d shot that Hexenbiest instead of the Mellifer? What if I’d managed to kill the Siegbarste at my house, instead of forcing you to do it? What if I’d been too late at the Lowen Games?” He cuts off there, because that’s a little bit more than he’d originally planned on saying. 

Monroe looks uncomfortable again, like he’s not sure what to say. “You didn’t force me to do that. You told me to give the gun to Hank, I made the decision to take the shot myself.”

“Same thing,” Nick says. “Either way, I didn’t get to carry out my original plan.”

Monroe rolls his eyes. “And what was your original plan when you asked me to bring the gun to the hospital, sneak out with your concussion and broken ribs and do it yourself? Yeah, that would have gone over well.”

“No one would have noticed until it was too late,” Nick mutters. Juliette hadn’t been there with him, and he could have gotten past the officer guarding the door. Then he would have been fine until the nurse checked on him.

“I would have,” Monroe says. 

Nick stares at him for a long moment, until he has to look away, because he’s pretty sure the affection he feels at the realization that, yeah, Monroe would have noticed, is not only written all over his face, but a hell of a lot stronger than anything platonic. “Well, it’s not one of the ‘if’s I dwell on most, anyway.”

“What is, then?” Monroe asks, sounding curious. 

Nick snorts. “Five guesses.”

“What if you weren’t a Grimm?” Monroe ventures. 

That’s – actually a pretty good guess, and at one point, it might have been the truth. But Nick’s already accepted that he’s a Grimm; by now, his life is so different, that he can’t really imagine _not_ being one. And it wasn’t what he was thinking of. “No, I’ve made my peace with that. Usually it’s if I could have had my aunt around a little bit longer, or if I hadn’t made it to the Lowen Games in time.”

Monroe’s brows furrow. “You – really?”

Nick figures he’s talking about the Lowen Games part, and nods. “Yeah, man, I had nightmares for nearly a week after that, about what would have happened if I’d been too late, if I’d lost you.”

Monroe looks away briefly, then back at him. “I didn’t know you were that worried.”

Nick snorts. “Right, because someone I’d step into the ring and fight for definitely isn’t someone I’d worry about.” 

Monroe frowns, looking concerned. “That wasn’t what I-”

“I know,” Nick tells him. “Of course I was worried, Monroe. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” This is starting to get a little too serious for him, though, a little too close to hitting on the way Nick feels about Monroe, so he breaks it up with a smirk. “I’d be lost without my grimmopedia.” 

Monroe glares at him. “I was being sarcastic when I said that, that wasn’t permission for you to use it whenever you feel like it.” 

“I don’t know, I think it suits you,” Nick says, grinning. 

“You would,” Monroe grumbles, turning away from him and pointedly staring at the movie on TV.

Nick smiles, and leans over to nudge Monroe’s shoulder slightly with his own, then settles back against the couch, enjoying the comfortable silence.

 

\---

 

Jogging with Hap becomes a semi-regular thing, when Hap’s restless enough to be up early, or Nick’s tired enough to sleep in later. 

That day, Nick parks his car at the café and bakery down the block from the park, because he wants to pick up some croissants from it after they’re done with their run. Not because he knows how much Monroe likes them, just because Nick’s had a craving for croissants. Though he probably will bring a few over the next time he’s at Monroe’s for coffee, just to be polite. 

All right, he doesn’t want to lie to himself, he’s getting them mostly because he knows how much Monroe likes them.

So it shouldn’t surprise him when he spots Monroe walking towards the bakery as Nick and Hap head back from the park, but it does a little. 

Nick’s smiling, raising one hand in greeting and calling Monroe’s name before he realizes that that might not be the best idea, not with Hap trotting in wolf form by his side with a collar and tags around his neck.

But it’s too late, because Monroe sees him, and gives a slight smile, walking over to them. His smile fades as he spots Hap, though, and his expression turns into something along the lines of ‘what the hell?’ 

“Nick?” he asks, then looks down at Hap. “Hap?” 

“Uh,” Nick says intelligently. 

Monroe raises an eyebrow, and Hap sits down next to them, looking as amused as is possible for a wolf. 

“We go running,” Nick blurts out. “In the park. I go jogging in the morning when I have time, and I invited Hap to come with me one day, and he agreed when he found out it was in the park. I didn’t realize he meant in wolf form, but then I figured, hell, why not.” 

Monroe stares pointedly at the collar. Hap flicks his ears back, and then forwards again. 

“We got busted by a police officer for not obeying licensing laws,” Nick says. “We figured this was the best way to avoid that again, since Hap still wanted to come sometimes.” 

Monroe looks between them for a long moment. “You two go running together. In the woods.” 

There’s a hint of something like longing in his tone.

“Yeah,” Nick says, then offers hesitantly, “You could come, too. If you wanted. You don’t have to, you know, change, or anything, you could just come with.”

Monroe looks startled, and he glances at Hap, who lifts one shoulder in an approximation of a shrug. Monroe hesitates for a moment, then shakes his head.

“I told you I don’t like doing the wolf thing,” Monroe says.

“And I told you that you didn’t have to,” Nick replies. 

There’s another hesitation. Then, “Nothing good comes from me running in the woods, Nick.” His eyes flick over to Hap, then he guiltily looks away.

Hap growls, and moves forward to push his head against Monroe’s hip, shaking his head back and forth. Monroe’s hand settles on Hap’s neck in what looks like an automatic gesture. 

“I know,” Monroe says quietly, then gently pushes Hap off. 

Nick figures that’s something better left between them, and doesn’t comment. Hap backs away and sits back down, and Monroe shakes his head again.

“It’s not a good idea,” he says.

Nick frowns, and then steps forward, sliding easily into Monroe’s personal space. “Look, Monroe, if you’re really concerned about control, then I won’t push. But if it’s just that you’re scared, or worried about people seeing you, then, well, I’d really like you to come.”

Monroe looks at him for a long moment, angled slightly so he’s leaning towards Nick, the way he usually does when Nick gets this close to him, though Nick’s not sure Monroe’s aware of it. Monroe looks like he’s ready to say yes, eyes locked on his, but then Monroe’s gaze returns once more to Hap, and Monroe shakes his head a third time. 

“No, Nick. Just drop it, okay?” Monroe asks.

“Okay,” Nick says reluctantly, because he meant it, he really doesn’t want to push at Monroe’s control. He just thinks there’s more to this than that. But he’ll let it go. “Dinner tonight?”

Monroe snorts. “You’re actually asking, instead of just showing up at my place around dinner time?”

“I’ll bring the wine,” Nick tells him, like he doesn’t half the time, anyway. 

“Make it a white,” Monroe says. “I’m making pasta with alfredo sauce.”

“I’ve got a Riesling that’ll be perfect,” Nick replies with a grin. “I’ll see you tonight, then.” 

 

\---

 

Nick doesn’t have to be a Blutbad to smell the alcohol on Monroe when he swings by after work later that week. 

“Rough day?” Nick asks, raising an eyebrow. 

Monroe snorts. “What’re you, a bartender?” He starts walking towards the living room, leaving the front door open. “Give me another, then, bartender.”

“Sorry,” Nick says, closing the door behind him and following after Monroe. “I’m cutting you off.” 

“Can’t cut me off. This is my house,” Monroe informs him as he flops down on the couch. 

“Sure I can. You’ll thank me in the morning when I kept you from throwing up one of your intestines,” Nick jokes, shoving Monroe’s legs over so he can sit on the couch as well. “It’s just one of my many duties.”

Monroe frowns at him. “That’s not one of your cop duties. Or your Grimm duties, but you always fail on the traditional ones – which I’m exceedingly grateful for, by the way – so that’s not surprising.”

“It’s my duty as your friend, man,” Nick replies. 

Monroe stares at him for a moment. Then, “Why are you here?”

“Not for anything Grimm, which is a good thing,” Nick says with a laugh. “I’d hate to see what you’d translate for me now.” 

“Figures,” Monroe mutters. 

Nick frowns. “What?”

“Nothing,” Monroe says. “Could’ve used the distraction, is all.”

Nick eyes the beer bottles on the table for a moment. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“ _No_ ,” Monroe says quickly. “Really no.” 

Nick tries not to feel hurt. “Monroe, if you have a problem, even if it’s not Grimm related, you know I’m here, right?”

“Yeah. I know,” Monroe says, but he doesn’t sound very happy about that. “You’re _here_ for me, and you trust me, and you need me, and you’re just too much sometimes, you know? Too much and not enough.”

Nick tries to process that for a moment. “I didn’t understand any of that.”

“Of course not. I don’t even understand it,” Monroe mutters. “Don’t you have a Blutbad at home to get back to? Why don’t you go home and bug him?”

Monroe’s tone is off, there, and Nick frowns again. “Monroe, does it – does it _bother_ you, that Hap and I hang out?” 

“Oh, sure, _that_ you pick up on, stupid detective Grimm,” Monroe says, quiet enough that Nick can tell he’s not supposed to have heard it. “No, it doesn’t bother me. Why would it bother me? I don’t care what you guys do. It’s not as though I _want_ you over here all the time, drinking my coffee and beer and eating my food and asking me questions and dragging me off places at all hours of the night, and taking up space and getting your Grimm smell everywhere and smiling at me all the time and making me feel like maybe I can be _good_ , can be someone worthwhile, and making it all a little less lonely, a little more worth it.” He blinks when he stops talking, looking a little surprised at himself, like he hadn’t meant to say all that. 

Nick doesn’t really know what to say. He knows Monroe hasn’t been actually trying to get rid of him for a while now, that Monroe enjoys some of the Grimm stuff and hanging out with him, but he hadn’t realized it’d been anywhere near that important to him.

“Monroe,” Nick starts. 

“I’m drunk,” Monroe announces, cutting him off. “Drunk and I have no idea what I’m saying. No one makes sense when they’re drunk. I don’t care. I’m happy Hap found someone who’s a good influence on him. I don’t care that I knew both of you first and you have way more fun than you have with me, because I’m not fun, I have clocks and stamps and routines and I don’t care that neither of you need me anymore-”

“Monroe,” Nick says firmly, leaning into his personal space and forcing Monroe’s eyes to stop darting around and focus on him. “Stop. I’m sorry, man, I had no idea you felt this way.”

“What way?” Monroe bitches. “I don’t feel any way. I don’t c-”

“Care, yeah, I know.” Nick’s quiet for a moment, trying to figure out a way to let Monroe know how much he means to him without delving into the feelings Nick’s been working very hard to keep hidden. “Monroe, you’re my best friend. You’re the one I trust with everything, the only one I let into the trailer. You’re the one I come to when nothing makes sense.” 

Monroe doesn’t say anything, just stares at Nick’s face like he’s trying to decipher what Nick really means just by his expression.

“You’re the most important person in my life,” Nick says quietly. “I will _always_ need you.” There. That seemed to cover it without straying too much into ‘also, I think I might be in love with you’ territory. And if it did head vaguely in that direction, well, hopefully Monroe was too drunk to notice it. 

Monroe reaches out to drunkenly cup Nick’s cheek, then his hand slides down to curl around the back of his neck. Nick copies the gesture, pressing against the back of Monroe’s neck to pull him closer, so that their foreheads rest against each other. 

“You smell like pack,” Monroe murmurs. 

Nick remembers his conversation with Hap, the one that didn’t actually answer anything. And this doesn’t really answer much, either, but somehow, for the moment, when Monroe leans against him and tells Nick that he’s pack, that’s all Nick really needs to know. “Good.”

Monroe snorts. “You’re the worst Grimm ever.”

“No,” Nick corrects. “I’m the best Grimm ever.”

“Yeah,” Monroe agrees softly. “You are.” He pauses for a moment. “You’re also the only Grimm I know and probably the only one out there who won’t kill me, so don’t think too highly of that.”

“Too late,” Nick replies, then informs him, “You smell like alcohol.”

Monroe makes a face. “Everything smells like alcohol.”

Nick chuckles. “I bet. How many beers did you have?”

“A lot,” Monroe replies. 

“Yeah, well, no more drinking like that alone again, okay? It just makes things worse,” Nick says.

“Don’t tell me what makes things worse,” Monroe grumbles, but he’s also nodding, forehead shifting against Nick’s. “Okay.”

“Good,” Nick says again, then stands. “Come on.” Nick tugs on Monroe, trying to get him up. “Let’s get you to bed.”

“I don’t want to go to bed,” Monroe protests.

“Yes, you do. It’s way past that bed time you’re always reminding me you have,” Nick tells him, finally hauling Monroe to his feet. “Time for all good Blutbaden to go to sleep.”

“I’m not a good Blutbad,” Monroe mutters, but he lets Nick pull him towards the stairs. “I’m a terrible Blutbad. No self-respecting Blutbad would let a Grimm anywhere near his house, ever, let alone when he was drunk.”

“I’m pretty sure no self-respecting Grimm would help a drunken Blutbad up to his bedroom – a drunken Blutbad who keeps stepping on said Grimm’s foot, by the way – so we’re even on the lack of self respect,” Nick says.

“Maybe I wouldn’t step on you if you didn’t stand so close,” Monroe returns.

“You’ll probably fall over if I stand back,” Nick says.

“I know how to _walk_ ,” Monroe says, making a face and pulling away slightly. 

“I’m not questioning your knowledge. It’s your ability that’s shaky,” Nick replies, then tugs Monroe back in when he stumbles a bit. “Let’s not try to test it while we’re on the stairs.”

“I got up these stairs all the time before you,” Monroe mutters.

“Well, now you have me, so shut up and let me help you,” Nick tells him.

Monroe doesn’t reply, but he also doesn’t protest any more as they make it the rest of the way up the stairs and to Monroe’s room.

Then he side-eyes Nick. “You gonna help me to the bathroom, too?”

“Nah, I think you got that covered, man,” Nick says, clapping him on the shoulder. “I’ll be downstairs if you need anything.”

Monroe waves him off, already heading to the bathroom, and Nick heads back downstairs to get his cell phone.

‘ **Monroe’s wasted** ’, he texts to Hap. 

A few seconds later, his phone chimes with Hap’s reply. ‘ _dude, sweet! i can b ther n like 20._ ’

Nick smiles slightly. ‘ **Not that kind of wasted. The kind that comes from drinking alone.** ’

‘ _oh. bummer._ ’

‘ **Yeah. I’m going to crash here tonight.** ’

‘ _yeah, man, u make sure he doesn’t crack his head on the john, i’ll watch the house._ ’

A second later, Hap texts again. ‘ _but u owe me beer 4 getting my hopes up like that._ ’

Nick chuckles. ‘ **I’ll buy a case on my next day off.** ’

‘ _sweet._ ’

Nick sets his phone down and heads back upstairs. Monroe’s door is closed, so Nick just raps on it lightly with his knuckles. “You good?”

There’s a pause, then, “I’m going to _bed_ , Nick. You were the one who insisted, so either quit bugging me or join me.”

Nick ignores the way his pulse quickens at that, reminds himself that Monroe is very, very drunk, and gives a dry chuckle. “I’ll leave you to it.”

He goes back downstairs, shrugging out of his jacket and draping it over the back of the couch. Then he grabs the throw there, and curls up on the couch under it, settling his head on the couch pillow and trying not to think about how much he’d wanted to take up Monroe on his drunken offer.

But he fails, and once again he falls asleep to the comforting – and slightly troubling – thought of curling around Monroe.

 

\---

 

“Tell Hap I’m not a Blutbad.” 

There’s a long pause, and Nick can picture Monroe staring at his phone. “Hap may not be the best wound clock in the room, but he’s not a complete idiot. I’m pretty sure he already knows that.” 

“Hey, man, tell Monroe that his little clock ah-nal-oh-gees are cruel and hurtful. And unnecessary,” Hap says, leaning in closer to Nick. 

“Hap, I can hear you,” Monroe says, in his ‘look at how patient I’m being’ voice. 

“Then you knew I could hear your hurtful, hurtful words and said them anyway?” Hap asks, sounding dismayed. 

“At least he said you weren’t a complete idiot,” Nick tells him. “He always says I’m an idiot.”

“Was there a point to this call?” Monroe asks. 

“Yeah, you need to tell Hap to quit pestering me,” Nick says.

“I’m not pestering you!” Hap insists. 

“You’re the one who keeps trying to get me to pee in the backyard,” Nick protests.

“Yeah, well, dude, _I_ can’t do it, and you have to mark your territory somehow,” Hap tells him.

“Monroe,” Nick says, in what he will forever insist is not a whine. “Tell Hap I’m not a Blutbad.”

“Monroe,” Hap says, in what is definitely a whine. “Tell Nick that he’s an honorary Blutbad.”

There’s a moment of silence. “Are you two drunk?”

“There’s a distinct possibility,” Nick says seriously, while Hap starts laughing in the background. 

“I’m hanging up now,” Monroe says.

“No, don’t hang up!” Nick frowns, then smiles. “Come over.” 

“Nick, I don’t want to come hang out with you two when you’re drunk,” Monroe tells him.

“So come hang out with us and you be drunk, too,” Nick suggests. 

“Yeah, bro, come on, you need to live a little with us,” Hap says. 

Nick wonders if Monroe is thinking of the last time he was drunk, of the conversation they had and just didn’t talk about the next morning, when Monroe came downstairs looking slightly worse for wear to find Nick sleeping on his couch. Monroe brought him coffee and Nick made breakfast, and they talked about anything but the fact that Nick had slept over, or why that’d happened.

“Please?” Nick asks quietly. “It’s not the same without you.”

There’s a heavy sigh. “Fine. I’ll be there in half an hour.”

Nick greets him at the door with a beer and a glass of whiskey. It’s not the Irish stuff that both Nick and Hap like, the kind they’d been drinking earlier, it’s the slightly more expensive brand Nick only has when Monroe’s around. 

“Thank you for humoring me,” Nick tells him, soft and sincere in the way only the very drunk can be. 

Monroe rolls his eyes, downs half the glass in one go, and makes his way into the living room. “You’re incredibly bad for my liver, Grimm.”

“I’m bad for all of you, but you love it, Blutbad,” Nick returns, too amused by that, and follows him back.

Hours later, they’re all significantly drunker than they should be. Conversation’d stopped about half an hour ago. Maybe. Maybe it’s been longer, maybe it’s only been a few minutes. Time is a thing that’s harder to keep track of at the moment. But Nick’s pretty sure it’s been quiet for a while.

“There’s ponies on your TV,” Monroe mutters. 

Nick looks over at it, blinking. There are ponies. Cartoon ponies. “So change it.”

“Where’s the remote?” Monroe asks. 

“Coffee table,” Nick replies, except when he looks, he can’t see the remote among all the beer bottles. “Uh. I don’t know. Hap?”

But Hap’s completely out, sprawled over the love seat and snoring lightly. 

“Change the channel,” Monroe says, nudging at him.

“You change the channel,” Nick says. “I’m not getting up.” 

Monroe stares at the TV, like if he just looks at it hard enough, the channel will change. “I guess we’re watching ponies, then.” 

“It’s not like we were paying attention, anyway,” Nick mutters, half asleep.

Two hours later, Monroe comments, “The pink one is really creepy.”

“Pinkie Pie just likes having fun. A really intense amount of fun,” Nick says. 

“Nick. Nick. Nick, dude, tell me you don’t know all their names,” Monroe says seriously, like Nick’s answer is the most important thing in the world. 

“I don’t know all their names,” Nick choruses. 

“You’re lying to me,” Monroe says. 

Nick grins a bit. “Maybe a little.”

Monroe rolls his eyes. “You are hopeless.”

“Shut up. Rainbow Dash is badass and you know it.” Nick doesn’t sound at all defensive there. 

Monroe stares at him. “It’s a _pony_.”

“A badass pony. She could kick your ass,” Nick informs him.

Monroe pauses for a long moment. Then, “Shut up. She can fly, and do that rainbow boom thing, it’s not fair.”

Nick laughs, grinning triumphantly. “Don’t worry. I won’t let Rainbow Dash kick your ass.”

Monroe snorts. “You going to beat up the pony for me?”

Nick leans his head on Monroe’s shoulder. “Yeah, man. I’ll beat up the pony for you. What are best friends for?”

“Apparently to get me drunk and force me to watch ponies. I’m about five seconds away from giving up the vegetarian thing, because that pink one does not deserve to be alive.” Monroe’s eyes are narrowed at the screen.

Nick shoves him lightly, then harder when Monroe’s focus stays on the TV. “It’s a cartoon. Pretty sure that doesn’t count as meat.” 

“Good, then you won’t hunt me down after I eat it.” 

Nick can tell Monroe’s trying to sound tough, there, but it doesn’t work very well, considering Nick’s last shove had sent Monroe half sprawled out over the couch. 

“No, you’re free to eat all the cartoon ponies you want without fear of being hunted.” 

A satisfied rumble comes from Monroe’s throat, and Nick resists the urge to lean over onto Monroe’s chest to listen to it. Instead, he turns vague attention back to the television screen, slowly giving in to the urge to sleep. 

He wakes up some time later when the pillow beneath him starts jerking slightly. Nick blinks blearily around him, and realizes he’s sprawled half on Monroe, head resting on Monroe’s chest. Monroe’s asleep, but it doesn’t exactly look peaceful. His eyes are fluttering, he’s twitching restlessly, and when he lets out a quiet growl, Nick reaches up to nudge at Monroe’s shoulder.

“Monroe,” Nick murmurs. “Hey, wake up.” 

Monroe starts awake with a jolt, eyes darting around.

“You’re fine,” Nick says. “Whatever it was, it was just a dream.”

Monroe focuses on him. “Nick, man, that pink thing was in my house, destroying all my clocks and trying to throw me a party, and _singing_ at me.”

There’s a pause as Nick tries to figure out what Monroe’s talking about. “…you were having a nightmare about Pinkie Pie?”

“Destroying my clocks, Nick. I need those clocks.” 

Nick manages not to chuckle, though he does make a note not to let drunk Monroe watch cartoons. “I’ll protect you and your clocks from the singing pony.”

“You better. It’s your damn fault in the first place,” Monroe grumbles, but he’s relaxing, eyes slipping shut and sounding half asleep already.

“I’ll always protect you from things that are my fault,” Nick says. “And things that aren’t, but there’s fewer of those.” He’d meant to sound teasing there, but he’s still a little drunk, and it comes out serious. 

Monroe apparently doesn’t notice, though, because he just asks, “Promise?”

“Yeah,” Nick tells him quietly, not even trying for teasing this time. He waits for a moment, until he’s reasonably sure that Monroe’s asleep, then slides his hand up from Monroe’s shoulder, over his cheek and to his forehead, brushing Monroe’s hair back. “Yeah,” he says again. “I promise.” 

He drifts off again, and the next time he wakes it’s because he’s too warm, with a heaviness on his legs that’s bordering on uncomfortable. Nick lifts his head, glancing back over his shoulder, and sees a giant wolf curled up on his legs. 

“Hap,” Nick mutters, shifting his legs slightly. 

Hap’s response is a loud snore. 

Nick kicks with a little more force, but though Hap changes positions slightly, he doesn’t wake. Nick grumbles under his breath, then resumes kicking, nudging Hap around until he’s not completely on his legs. He doesn’t actually mind Hap being there, Hap’s just _heavy_. That, and Nick’s a little unsettled by the idea of having his legs trapped, not being able to get up quickly. Or, well, as quickly as he can when still drunk, sprawled on top of a Blutbad and with another down by his feet. 

Hap snorts and grumbles a few times, but allows himself to be prodded into a more comfortable spot. 

After a moment of waiting, to make sure Hap isn’t just going to move back into his former position, Nick settles back in, one hand curling into Monroe’s sweater at the spot just over his heart, and falls back asleep with Monroe’s arm draped across his shoulder blades and Hap’s head pressed against his calf.

 

\---

 

“I don’t see why we gotta _tour_ these things,” Hap mutters, shuffling a bit from side to side as they wait for the manager of the apartment complex to unlock the unit they’re looking at. 

“Because otherwise you’ll start renting a place you’ve never seen, and they’ll stick you with something that has a toilet in the kitchen,” Nick replies.

Hap grins at him. “Who says that’d be a bad thing?”

Nick makes a face at him. “Everyone but you, Hap. But hey, at least it’d have the double benefit of making sure I’m never here.”

Hap looks horrified. “But who’ll barbeque?” 

The manager opens the door, ushering them into the unit, and Nick grins at Hap, clapping him on the back and guiding him inside. 

“Don’t worry. You know I’ll always barbeque. No one else appreciates my sauce like you,” Nick assures him.

“It sounds dirty when you say it like that,” Hap informs him with a somber nod, then grins back. “Still true, though.” 

The manager gives them the brief tour – it’s a small apartment, combination kitchen and living room, one bedroom, one bathroom, but it looks perfect for Hap. Nick asks a few questions about the lease and other details, but Hap’s ready to jump on it. 

“I’m sure you two will be very happy here,” the manager says with a bright smile. “We have a number of other young couples in the building, you should get along with them splendidly. If you’ll follow me to my office, I’ll get the paperwork ready.”

Hap stares after her. “Dude. She thinks we’re _dating_.”

Nick chuckles, amused. “We are looking at a one bedroom apartment together, making dirty jokes about sauce.”

“Well, yeah, but. _Ew_.” Hap wrinkles his nose. “I mean, no offense, you’re my bro and it’s awesome, but dude.” 

“None taken,” Nick says dryly. “I’m sure she’ll figure it out when you move in here by yourself.”

Hap tilts his head at him. “For a straight guy, you’re pretty zen about this.”

Nick shrugs. “No one expects me to get freaked out when someone assumes I’m dating a female friend, why should it be any different for a guy? Besides, I’m not exactly straight.”

Hap looks him up and down. “Huh.”

“What?” Nick asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Just glad I’m moving out, bro, because otherwise the temptation might be too much. I mean, how could you resist all this-” He gestures to himself, grinning. “-for much longer? I don’t wanna taunt you with things you can’t have, that’d just be cruel.” 

Nick laughs. “If I wanted you, I could have you.” 

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, Burkhardt,” Hap informs him knowingly. “Let’s go, man, before she thinks we’re up here making out or something.”

The paperwork’s signed and filed quickly, and Hap’s moving out after only a week. 

They throw Hap’s housewarming party at Nick’s place. Nick points out that it’s hardly a housewarming party if they’re throwing it at the place Hap is moving out of instead of the place he’s moving into, but Hap just tells him that if Nick wants to try to barbeque on the balcony Hap’s got as well as fit all the people that’re coming in there, Nick can go ahead and try it.

Nick concedes when he sees the number of people they’ve got to invite to the party. Both Hap and Nick are the kind of people who are friends with everyone, which means when the time for the party comes, Nick’s backyard is filled with a combination of cops, lawyers, and not-quite shady people, half of whom are human and half Wesen. 

Hap is standing in the center of a group of rookie officers and Sgt. Wu, making them laugh with whatever story he’s telling while gesturing empathically and grinning hugely. 

Frank Rabe is there, chatting amiably with a few cops that he’s worked with in the courtroom before. His son is there as well, an ankle monitor just peeking out from under his jeans, sulking on the opposite side of the yard from his father. He looks like he’s trying to stay away from everyone else as much as possible, at least until Gracie approaches him shyly, apparently taking advantage of the fact that Hanson is busy exchanging pleasantries thinly veiled as insults with Roddy. 

After a moment of talking, she hands him a puka shell necklace. He stares at her with a sneer on his lips, but she says something else and leans up on tiptoe to fasten it around his neck, and he lets her. Holly appears by her side, wearing her own puka shell necklace as well as two puka shell bracelets. She wraps her hand protectively around Gracie’s wrist, looking up at Barry for a moment, and then Blutbads out, causing Barry’s face to shift as well. 

Nick’s ready to go over there, but Gracie, oblivious to their changes, says something, and Holly shifts back. Barry does as well, and he’s apparently passed whatever test Holly was giving him, because when Gracie tugs him towards where Roddy and Hanson are standing, Holly helps her, walking behind Barry and herding him towards the others. 

Hank’s talking with a lawyer and a bookie, and Nick’d drifted close enough to hear that they’re chatting about the latest Blazers game. Hank may be fully into the conversation, but Nick’s observant enough to notice that every so often, Hank’s gaze scans the rest of the party, most commonly eyeing Monroe. 

Monroe, who’s lingering on the outskirts of the backyard, standing close enough to a group that he doesn’t look like he’s hiding at first glance, but it’s pretty obvious that he is. Nick’d spotted him talking to Roddy earlier, to Holly, and briefly to Holly’s mom, but aside from Nick and Hap, Monroe’s been keeping to himself. 

Nick’s just about made up his mind to head over when he sees Hank leaving his little sports group and walking his way. 

“Nick, my man, you have got to stop collecting people on our cases,” Hank informs him, handing Nick an open beer. 

It’s a Coors Light, and Nick makes a face at him, but accepts the bottle. “If I did, we wouldn’t have any friends.” 

“Maybe _you_ wouldn’t,” Hank retorts. 

Nick grins at him. “You can’t tell me it’s not good to see Holly making friends.”

Hank’s eyes soften slightly as he looks over to where Holly’s standing with the other four teenagers in attendance, but his tone is still sarcastic when he replies, “Yeah, the boy who attacked his friends with rats and the guy who kidnapped two people and is out on probation. Great role models, there.”

“I notice you didn’t say anything about Hanson and Gracie,” Nick comments.

Hank shrugs. “Nothing to say about them, except you’re still the world’s biggest softie.”

Nick snorts. “Yeah, well, what she needs is friends. She’s got other people to be good role models for her. You and me, Monroe and Hap.”

Hank shakes his head, taking a drink of his beer.

“What?” Nick asks, automatically following suit and then making another face.

“You and your clock guy, man. It’s weird, how adamant you were that he was the one who kidnapped Robin, and now you’re best friends,” Hank says, tone carefully neutral.

Nick resists the urge to shift uncomfortably, and instead rolls his eyes. “I can be wrong every once in a while, you know.”

“Hell of a thing to be wrong about,” Hank says.

“Yeah, well, fortunately, Monroe’s a good guy, and doesn’t hold it against me. Come on, man, I’ve explained this before, if you’ve got something to say, just say it,” Nick says.

Hank shrugs. “Just making an observation.”

“Save the observations for when we’re on the clock,” Nick replies, taking another drink of his beer and grimacing. “Unless it’s an observation of how bad this tastes.” 

“Snob,” Hank informs him. “This was all you drank back in the academy and during your early days.”

“Yeah, back when it was all I could afford,” Nick replies, enjoying riling Hank up, though truthfully, the taste wasn’t all that bad. “Now I can spend that extra few dollars to make sure my beer actually has flavor.”

“And we’re back to snob,” Hank says. 

“I like supporting the local breweries. I’m a community man, Hank,” Nick says, grinning at him.

Hank snorts. “And if I wasn’t your partner and well aware of how often you use that smile, I’d buy that.”

Nick chuckles. “If that’s the way it is, I’ll go hang out with someone who isn’t immune to my charms. And Monroe’ll get me _real_ beer.”

Hank raises an eyebrow. “Man, I don’t wanna hear about whatever charms you’re using on him.”

Nick pauses, frowning. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He must look uncertain enough that Hank decides not to pursue it, because Hank just shakes his head. 

“Nothing. Go be a beer snob somewhere else, you’re bringing down the barbeque mood,” Hank says. 

Nick looks at him closely, but Hank just grins, so Nick rolls his eyes again, shoves his shoulder good-naturedly, and heads over to Monroe. 

“Save me from people who think Coors Light is the pinnacle of good taste in beers,” Nick pleads with a grin, snagging Monroe’s beer and taking a drink from it.

Monroe snatches it back, looking horrified. “You better not think I’m trading with you.”

“No, I just needed to wash the taste out of my mouth,” Nick replies. 

“And probably contaminated my beer in the process, thanks for that,” Monroe grumbles.

“Might as well give it to me, then,” Nick tells him.

“Nice try,” Monroe says. “Get your own damn beer. In fact, you should get me another one, because hey, _I’m_ the guest here.”

“You’re not a guest,” Nick replies. “I have spare clothes at your place, man, we’re officially no longer just guests in each other’s houses.”

Monroe stares at him, then rolls his eyes. “I don’t have spare clothes at your place.”

Nick shrugs, grinning at him. “So bring some over. I have room. But, since I’m such a nice guy, I’ll go get you that beer.”

Monroe starts to say something, then seems to think better of it. Instead, he shakes his head. “You’re only getting me a beer because you want one, too.”

“Assigning me ulterior motives? Now I’m just hurt.” Nick flashes him another grin, then leaves to get them both another beer. 

And if he spends the rest of the night mostly by Monroe’s side, well, that’s no one’s business but his own. 

 

\---

 

Nick makes a mental note to get a hazmat suit the next time he goes tromping around in what turns out to be a Pilzbefall lair, because those things are nasty. His only consolation is that he hadn’t been wearing his favorite coat or shoes – and that he hadn’t slipping in anything, unlike Hank – because he’s pretty sure what he’s wearing now is ruined. He’s not sure if it’s better or worse that it starts pouring while they’re wrapping things up – it might wash away the smell and the muck, but with Nick’s luck, it’ll probably just solidify it and make him more miserable. 

His car’s still at Monroe’s house, where he’d been when he’d gotten the call and Hank’d swung by to pick him up, so that’s where Hank drops him off, with a look that says Hank’d make a comment if he wasn’t in such a hurry to get home and shower. 

Nick ignores him and waves a silent goodbye as he climbs out. He eyes his car, considering driving home, but finds himself trudging up to Monroe’s door and knocking.

Monroe answers almost immediately, already making a disgruntled face at him. “Dude. You reek.”

“I’ve noticed,” Nick comments. He’s aiming for sarcasm, but he’s tired enough that he only manages dry. 

Monroe gives him a look. “Until you can smell you two blocks down, no, you haven’t noticed.”

This isn’t the first time something like this has happened – in fact, times like this had been mainly why he’d started keeping a spare set of clothes here – but the other times it’d been something Monroe and he were investigating together, and both of their concerns had been more on getting clean than sending Nick home. 

Nick almost says he’ll just head out, then, but the idea of going back to his dark, empty house is a little too much at the moment, so he just looks at Monroe hopefully. He suspects he comes off as slightly pathetic, because Monroe barely lasts a few seconds before he groans and rolls his eyes. 

“Get in here,” Monroe says gruffly. “But don’t touch anything. Don’t go get your clothes, I’ll bring you them, just go shower before you get that smell everywhere. And leave what you’re wearing in the bathroom, front right corner, _on the tile_.”

“Thanks, Monroe,” Nick tells him gratefully, kicking off his shoes. 

“Socks, too,” Monroe says hurriedly. 

Nick peels them off and leaves them outside as well, then pads upstairs to the bathroom. He dumps his clothes in the usual spot, then climbs into the shower, closing his eyes and letting the hot water run over him. 

He’s nearly finished when he hears the door open.

“I know it’s your house, man, but a little privacy?” Nick bitches, but he doesn’t even sound annoyed. 

“No worries, dude, it’s me,” Hap comments.

“Oh, well, if it’s you, it’s fine, then,” Nick replies, once again missing sarcasm. “Nothing you haven’t seen before.”

“Yeah, that’s what I told Monroe when I said I’d get your stuff,” Hap says cheerfully. “Oh, man, these smell like something died on you. And not in the fun way.”

“Thanks for that,” Nick mutters.

“These are trashed, bro,” Hap says. “And Monroe says what you’ve only got one set of stuff here and it isn’t clean from the last time you slept over, but I brought some of Monroe’s clothes for you to wear.” 

“Thanks,” Nick says, more sincerely this time. Then, “You gonna get out of here, or are you staying for the show?”

“Nah, I’m good. Seen it already.” Nick can’t see Hap, but he can practically hear that grin. “Not that impressive.”

“I’ll show you impressive,” Nick grumbles, but he’s fighting a grin and it comes out half-hearted at best.

Nick waits until he hears the door close again, then shuts off the water and climbs out. All of his clothes are gone, but there’s a pair of sweats and a tee-shirt hanging on a hook on the back of the door. He towels dry and pulls them on – the shirt’s a little tight in the shoulders and chest, and the pants are too long, but they work well enough. But he’s still cold, which means when he passes Monroe’s room on the way to the stairs and sees the door open, he hesitates only a moment before ducking in and grabbing a sweater. 

Monroe doesn’t comment on it when Nick joins him in the kitchen, so Nick figures he must not have specified what Hap should bring. 

“Thanks, man,” Nick says, accepting the beer Monroe hands to him.

Monroe snorts. “This happens again, man, and I’m just going to give you a drawer or something.”

Nick smiles, then realizes being pleased at that idea probably isn’t an appropriate response to Monroe’s teasing. Well, unless he turns it into teasing back. “You say that like I’ll think it’s a bad thing. It’s just going to encourage me to come over here more.”

Monroe rolls his eyes as they head into the living room. “I’m not sure that’s possible.” 

“Sure it is,” Nick replies, flopping down onto the couch. “Especially now that I don’t really have a reason to hang around my house.” It occurs to Nick that he should just stop trying for sarcasm when he’s too tired to manage it properly, especially since Monroe’s looking at him awkwardly now. 

“Are you, uh. Are you okay, with Hap moving out?” Monroe asks, not quite looking at him.

Nick considers deflecting, but the question is sincerely said, which is rare for Monroe, so Nick answers in kind. “Yeah, of course I am. I’m the one who suggested it. He needs his own place, you know, to get his life back in order, instead of just staying with us and keeping things in limbo. But it’s lonely,” he admits quietly. “The house feels empty. It’s – weird, I haven’t lived by myself for any significant amount of time for a really long time. I’m over here half the time anyway, but the other half?”

“Yeah,” Monroe agrees softly, still not looking at him. “I know what you mean.”

And suddenly Nick feels like a jackass. “I’m sorry, Monroe. Here I am complaining about how I’ve had to live by myself for a few weeks, and you-”

“I’m used to it,” Monroe tells him. “You’re not.”

“That doesn’t matter,” Nick says. “You still-”

“It’s better this way,” Monroe says, cutting him off again. “I have my routine, and I need that.”

Nick frowns. “That doesn’t mean you have to be lonely.”

“Yes it does.” Monroe sounds somewhere between resigned and matter-of-fact. “It’s too hard to work people in, and I-”

This time Nick cuts him off, reaching out to rest his hand on Monroe’s cheek and turn Monroe’s face back towards him. “Not for me. I don’t want you to be lonely, Monroe, not when I can help it.”

Monroe’s eyes finally focus on his, and Nick’s breath catches slightly, because there’s a longing in Monroe’s expression that Nick can’t be making up. “Trust me, Nick, I’m a million times less lonely right now than I was before you shoved your way into my life.” 

“I don’t want you to be lonely at all,” Nick says, and he can’t stop himself from leaning in slightly. 

But Monroe’s leaning in as well, close enough that when he replies, voice low, “Everyone’s lonely sometimes,” Nick can feel Monroe’s breath against his skin. 

“We don’t have to be,” Nick murmurs. “We can do something about it.”

Nick leans closer, closing the distance between them, to – and Monroe’s suddenly not there, because he’s shifted away, letting Nick’s hand fall from his cheek and putting a few inches between them on the couch.

“I don’t think there is anything to do about it, we’ll just have to be like ninety percent of the rest of the population,” Monroe says, and Nick can tell he’s aiming for joking, but his voice is shaking slightly. Monroe stands, not looking at him. “I’ll, uh, go get us another beer.” 

He moves towards the kitchen at a pace that’s not quite fleeing, and Nick stares after him, a heavy, sinking feeling developing in his stomach.

Okay, then. Apparently he’d misinterpreted what was in Monroe’s eyes right then, what Monroe had been trying to say. Monroe hadn’t been talking about anything more than friendship, and it’s obvious he isn’t interested in Nick. Which, okay. Nick can do that. He’d been perfectly happy with just being friends with Monroe before, he can still be perfectly happy with that, why did he have to go and do something _incredibly stupid_ like try to kiss him? 

Shit. All right, so, he’s just going to have to sincerely hope that either Monroe somehow didn’t notice that – right – or that Monroe’s going to be good enough to ignore it, and not humiliate Nick further. 

Monroe comes back from the kitchen with a pair of beers, and hands one to Nick, still not really looking at him. 

Nick takes it, feeling the pit in his stomach sink lower. 

But then Monroe takes his typical seat on the couch, no further or closer to him than he usually sits, and turns his attention towards the game on the TV. 

Nick watches for a few minutes, sipping at his beer and trying to think of something to say that isn’t ‘hey, we’re good, right, you’re just going to go ahead and pretend that didn’t happen?’ 

Then Monroe asks, “So, did you get it?”

Nick blinks. “What?” 

“The Pilzbefall you came over here reeking of, did you take it out, or arrest it, or whatever?” Monroe says. 

“Oh,” Nick says, and then latches eagerly onto the subject. “There were two of them, actually. They’d been stealing bodies from nearby graveyards and the morgue to feed on.”

Monroe turns to look at him, making a face. “Yeah, I do know their habits, thanks for that.” 

Nick grins tentatively at him. “You asked. Anyway, we tracked them back to their lair-”

Monroe’s face grows more disgusted. “Oh, man, you did _not_ show up at my house after tromping through a Pilzbefall lair.” 

“…if it makes you feel better, I can say that I waited outside while Hank did the actual tromping?” Nick offers. 

“Liar,” Monroe grumbles. “Seriously, dude, I think you burned out some of my nostril hairs.”

Nick grins, a real one this time. “Well, at least I didn’t slip and fall in there, like Hank did.”

Monroe snorts, looking torn between amusement and horror. “Man. Poor Hank.”

“Poor me, I’m the one that’s going to have to sit in the car with him for the next few days,” Nick replies. “But yeah, we arrested them.”

Monroe nods. “It’s good you caught them early, before they moved on to actually killing.” 

Nick smiles. “Every so often, we come out ahead.” 

Monroe clinks his beer against Nick’s and takes a drink, and Nick drinks some of his as well. 

Comforted by the familiar banter and the apparent lack of awkwardness between them, Nick stays there longer than he should – long enough that at some point, he drifts off. He jerks awake to something tugging on his foot, and realizes that he’s wedged himself in the corner of the couch, arms crossed and head resting on his chest. 

Monroe is leaning over him, trying to get his feet up on the couch, but notices Nick’s little jolt.

“Hey,” Monroe greets quietly. “You okay? Wasn’t a nightmare, was it?”

“No,” Nick says, trying to blink himself awake. “Don’t really get them when I’m here. Sorry, man, give me a minute and I’ll head home.” 

Monroe hesitates, then shakes his head. “Don’t worry about it. You can crash on the couch, I’ve got your clothes in the dryer, anyway.” 

“You sure?” Nick asks, hesitant even though he’s already starting to fall back asleep. 

“Yeah,” Monroe says, standing up to grab a blanket. “It’s no more trouble than the other times you’ve stayed over.” 

Nick swings his legs up on the couch, stretching out over it. “Thanks, man,” he murmurs. “You’re the best.” 

Monroe spreads the blanket over him. “Don’t mention it,” he mutters. 

Nick murmurs something that isn’t actually words, closing his eyes. He thinks – he’s pretty sure he feels Monroe’s hand on his forehead, brushing back his hair and ghosting over the top of his head, but Nick’s too far into sleep to confirm it.

It’s most likely only wishful thinking.

 

\---

 

It’s probably past time that Nick should be home – he has work tomorrow, after all – but he’s too pleased that he and Hap have managed to convince Monroe to go out with them for a beer to care. It’s been over a week since Nick’s talked to Monroe, and he’d been trying to convince himself that it’s not because of his botched attempt at kissing Monroe, but he was only slightly successful, relying heavily on the fact that Monroe had still let him stay the night after that, and hadn’t been at all weird in the morning.

But Monroe’d been apologetic when he showed up at Nick’s house, rambling on about the clock his latest client had brought him and not mentioning anything about Nick being an idiot, so Nick figures they’re good.

It’s still been a while since Nick’s seen him, though, and he doesn’t want that to end. But unfortunately, he has to be responsible, so it’s not long before they’re cutting through the small park next to the bar, heading towards Nick’s car. 

They’re about halfway through the park when something pricks at the back of Nick’s neck, an unsettling feeling like fingers over his spine. He hesitates, glancing over Monroe, and grows more wary when he sees Monroe sniffing the air. 

“What is it?” Nick asks. 

Monroe sniffs again, turning his head, and then looks back at Nick, obviously concerned. “I think it’s an Eicherlegen.”

“Oh, man, dude, we’ve got to get out of here,” Hap says, eyes bleeding red slightly. 

Nick hasn’t read extensively on them, but he does remember the name, and the image of a huge, tree-like Wesen comes to mind. “Can you tell where it is?”

Monroe shakes his head. “No. I can tell it’s close, but that’s it. That’s another reason they stay in forested places, they look and smell so much like trees, it’s hard to pinpoint their location.”

“I’ll tell you where their location is,” Hap says. “It’s where we _don’t_ want to be.”

“Okay,” Nick says, nodding. He moves his jacket back, one hand on his gun, as he starts forward again. “Stay close to me, and let me know if you can-”

He doesn’t get to finish, because a thick tree branch is suddenly swinging at him, smacking him in the chest and knocking him back a few feet. Nick slams into another tree, wincing as his shoulder hits at enough of an angle that he can feel it pop slightly out of place. It’s not a full dislocation – not again, thank God – but it’s enough that his shoulder feels slightly loose, that there’s a flare of pain and his arm goes a little weak. 

Monroe’s shouting his name, and it’s accompanied by a strangled growling sound, and Nick pushes himself away from the tree, pulling out his gun.

“Exactly how much do these things look like trees?” Nick asks, eyes scanning the park for anything out of the ordinary. 

“A lot!” Monroe replies. “The only way to tell them apart is-” Another branch swings Monroe’s way and he yelps, not quite managing to dodge, and takes the blow to the side of his stomach. 

Nick’s moving, tracking the branch as it swings back, trying to locate the tree it’s attached to. He spots it – or at least, he thinks he does – but then there’s another branch flying at him, and Nick has to roll to get out of its way, grimacing as it pulls at his shoulder. 

There’s growling to his right, and Nick looks over to see Hap, in full wolf form, dodging a branch and then leaping at it, sinking his teeth into the bark. The branch is trapped, shaking wildly back in forth in an attempt to shake Hap off. It succeeds, but not before Nick locates the Eicherlegen, a smaller tree with an unusual number of thick, long branches and a pair of shiny orange eyes sunk in the bark of its trunk, and shoots at it, twice. One of the bullets hits its eye, and the Eicherlegen shrieks, backing off. 

Or tries to, but it can’t, because Monroe, also in wolf form, has seized another one of its branches and is holding on, claws digging into the dirt and refusing to let go. Nick shoots again, this time aiming directly for its eyes. They go dim after five more shots, but he shoots them an extra few times, just in case. Then he waits, eyes on the Eicherlegen while it stays still and motionless.

“Monroe?” he asks quietly. “Hap?”

Monroe had been tossed off by the branch while Nick was shooting, but he doesn’t seem to be limping as he approaches Nick’s side, though he is moving more slowly than usual. Hap pads over as well, and it looks like he’s favoring one paw at first, but it seems to disappear by the time he reaches them.

“Is it dead?” Nick asks. 

They both sniff the air, then Monroe nods. 

“Are you two okay?” he asks.

There’s a nod from both of them that time, and then Monroe woofs in concern, an obvious question. 

“I’m okay. Just aggravated my shoulder a little. Is it going to stay like that, or…?” Nick trails off.

Monroe and Hap just stare at him.

“Sorry,” Nick offers, then rephrases that. “Is the Eicherlegen going to turn human?”

Monroe shakes his head. 

“Great,” Nick says, then mutters, “Now let’s just hope that no one investigates the gunshots too much and wonders why I emptied over half of my magazine into a tree. Let’s get out of here.” 

Despite both of them saying they were okay, Nick checks them over as best as he can in the dim light and in a short amount of time, before he gathers up Monroe and Hap’s belongings. They load into Nick’s car, and he takes off for his house. 

Nick’s not too worried about Hap, because he’s used to Hap being in his wolf form, but the fact that Monroe hasn’t changed back yet is troubling. It means Monroe is either too injured or too tired to change back, and just because Nick couldn’t find any major injuries doesn’t mean that he hadn’t missed something. His gaze flicks to the rearview mirror often as he drives, checking on the two wolves in his backseat. 

When they get to Nick’s house, Nick looks them both over again, but he can’t find anything more serious than a few cuts and some tender areas. 

“Are you guys staying like this tonight?” Nick asks.

Hap nods, giving an over exaggerated yawn. Monroe looks uncomfortable, but he nods as well. 

“Okay,” Nick says. “Hang on, then, I’ll grab the first aid kit.”

There’s only one or two cuts on Hap that need bandaging, and a few more on Monroe. He leaves the smaller scrapes alone, because they’ll probably heal faster left as they are, though he does clean them up. Nick doesn’t want to take any chances, and who knows what that Eicherlegen’d had on it branches. 

“Are you sure you’re all right?” Nick asks, looking back and forth between them both. 

Monroe lets out a huff, but pushes his head against the hand Nick’s still got hovering next to him. Hap noses at his other hand, giving his tail a light wag. 

“Okay, okay,” Nick says, stroking over both of their heads. “Let’s go get some sleep, then.” 

He gets Hap settled in the guest room, leaving the door open a crack in case Hap wants to get out without shifting back. Then Nick heads to his own room, Monroe padding next to him.

“Take the bed,” Nick tells him, opening the door and nodding towards his bed. “I’ll sleep on the couch tonight.”

Monroe growls at him, looking pointedly at his shoulder. 

“It’s fine, Monroe. I didn’t dislocate it, it was just a subluxation. Temporary partial slip, I just need to ice it a bit before I go to sleep.” 

Monroe whines, ears flicking back and forth uncertainly. 

“You need it more than I do, man. And anyway, if you don’t take it, there will just be two of us on the couch, and that won’t help anyone.” Nick focuses a pleading gaze on him, knowing that he’s probably cheating a little, but he doesn’t care if it means Monroe will take the bed. 

Monroe sighs, and gives another soft growl, but he makes his way over to the bed. 

“Thank you,” Nick says, leaving the door open a bit as he leaves. 

He heads downstairs to get an icepack from the fridge, and spends the next twenty minutes or so trying not to fall asleep while holding it to his shoulder. He’s going to have to backtrack a few weeks on the exercises he’s been doing since he dislocated his shoulder, he can feel it. Nick sighs, puts the icepack back in the freezer, and then goes upstairs to check on Monroe and Hap.

Hap’s sleeping peacefully, snoring slightly, but when Nick looks in on Monroe, it’s a different story. Monroe’s twitching, legs moving and making soft sounds between a whimper and a growl. Nick can’t leave him alone like that, so he slips into the room quietly, sitting on the edge of the bed and reaching over to place a gentle hand on Monroe’s shoulder. 

“Monroe,” he says softly. “Hey, wake up.” 

Monroe jolts awake, but relaxes almost immediately, leaning into Nick’s touch. 

“Are you okay?” Nick asks, smoothing his hand down Monroe’s side, worried it’s physical pain rather than nightmares. Though really, nightmares aren’t much better. Nick knows. 

Monroe shifts, resting his paw on Nick’s leg, looking at him with eyes that could almost be pleading. 

Almost before Nick realizes what he’s doing, he’s stretching out on the bed next to Monroe, settling on his back and keeping his shoulder still, his other hand still on Monroe’s side.

Monroe gives a quiet sigh and closes his eyes, curling closer to Nick so that he’s a warm weight against his side. 

Nick tangles his fingers in Monroe’s fur, and thinks – he’ll just lay there for a few minutes, just until Monroe’s asleep again. But he knows that’s a lie, even before he falls asleep only moments later.

 

\---

 

Nick makes breakfast the next morning, for a fortunately human Monroe and Hap. Monroe takes off after they’re finished, rambling about his clock again, but Hap lingers, eying Nick speculatively. 

“What?” Nick asks finally, perching on the arm of the sofa with his second cup of coffee. 

“You slept with Monroe,” Hap informs him.

Nick’s really glad he wasn’t taking a drink of his coffee, because he’s pretty sure he would have choked. “What?”

“Last night,” Hap says.

“Monroe was a wolf, Hap,” Nick points out. 

Hap frowns, brows furrowing in confusion. “I know. And you slept with him.”

Oh. Hap means _literally_ slept, okay, Nick needs to stop immediately jumping to conclusions. He shrugs. “Neither of us wanted the other one to have to take the couch.” 

Hap shakes his head. “It’s more than that.” He stares at Nick, eyes narrowed, and then his face suddenly lights up in comprehension. “Oh. _Oh_ , dude, I thought Monroe was just your second in command, but it’s more than that, bro, you want him for your mate!” 

Unfortunately, this time Nick _is_ sipping from his coffee, and he does choke a little. “My what?” 

“Your mate, dude, oh, this is so awesome, my main man Monroe and my bro Nick,” Hap says, looking thrilled. “Man, it’s so _obvious_ , I can’t believe I didn’t see it sooner-”

“Hap,” Nick says. 

“You know how rare this is, dude? This is epic, bro, _epic_.” Hap’s still beaming at him, and it’s starting to be unnerving. 

“Hap, Monroe isn’t – he’s not my mate,” Nick tells him firmly. 

Hap snorts. “Right, dude, like I’m buying that.”

“No, really, Hap, he-” Nick starts.

Hap rolls his eyes. “Everyone can see it, man, everyone, oh, hey, this must be what that little shit Roddy meant when he said being around you two was starting to be unbearable – heh, unbearable, I should remember that next time that little bear fucker’s around–” 

“Hap!” Nick says, not quite shouting. “Monroe isn’t interested in me like that.” 

Hap frowns at him. “Of course he is.”

“No, he’s not. All he wants to be is my – wait, did you say second in command? What do you mean, second in command?” Nick asks, derailed by a confusing train of what the hell. 

“Your second in command, bro, duh,” Hap says, looking at Nick like he’s stupid. “Of this weird little pack.” 

“And that would make me the leader?” Nick asks.

The ‘you’re really dense’ look increases. “Duh, man. Leader, alpha, whatever, who else do you think it’d be? You see anyone else saving our lives, arresting or shooting the people who try to hurt us, giving us orders that we actually listen to? Granted, in a normal pack, it’d be killing the people who try to hurt us, but when your pack’s got Reinigans, humans, a Grimm, and maybe a Jagerbar, you – hey, no, I see what you’re doing, quit trying to distract me. Monroe’s obviously interested in you, dude.” 

Nick – is really starting to hate having conversations with Hap about Blutbad stuff. Sure, they’re informative – for the most part – but they’re also really, really confusing. “He’s not. I already tried, and he wasn’t.”

That seems to throw Hap for a loop. “You what?” 

Okay, Nick takes it back, he’d rather go back to the conversation about Blutbad stuff. “I – made a move on him. He turned me down.” 

“He _what_? No way, man, there’s no way Monroe should have turned you down,” Hap insists. 

Nick starts to have a vague, unsettling thought. “Why, because I’m the alpha, and he can’t say no?”

Hap laughs, genuinely amused. Which, oddly enough, makes Nick feel better. If Hap’s treating that like a joke, it must not be true. 

“Funny, like we’d ever have to listen to you except when it mattered. And you’re still doing it, bro. You can’t distract me. I’m determined. See? This is my determined face.” Hap points at his face, which does look a bit more focused than usual. 

Nick sighs. “I don’t know what else to tell you. He was really nice about it, but he made it very clear that he wasn’t interested in me that way.”

Hap deflates visibly, and Nick absently thinks that it’s not fair, that Hap should be able to look on the outside how Nick feels on the inside. 

“I don’t understand,” Hap says, sounding confused. 

“Me either,” Nick admits, then shakes his head. “But there’s nothing I can do about it. So just – let it go, okay? I’d really rather not talk about this again.” 

Hap’s still frowning, staring at nothing like he’s trying to comprehend that. 

“Hap?” Nick prompts. 

“Yeah,” Hap says, obviously reluctant. “Yeah, bro, I got you. We won’t talk about it again. I guess I’ll… I guess I’ll catch you later.”

“We’ll do barbeque,” Nick tells him.

That gets Hap to smile, even if it’s not quite as bright as his normal smiles. “Hey, sweet. Yeah, okay. Later, bro.”

Nick stares into his coffee for a long time after Hap leaves, working on convincing himself once again that he’s perfectly fine just being friends with Monroe. 

He’s not very good at lying to himself today. 

 

\---

 

It’s almost eleven at night when there’s a knock on Nick’s door. He frowns, because he isn’t expecting anyone, not this late, and unexpected visitors usually mean some kind of trouble. So he glances through the peephole before he opens the door, and grows even more concerned when he sees Monroe on the front porch, hands shoved in his pockets and looking agitated. 

Nick pulls the door open immediately. “Monroe? Are you okay?”

Monroe pushes past him. “Tell Hap you didn’t make a move on me.” 

Nick stares at him, and wonders if this is how Monroe always feels when Nick comes over. “Um?” He closes the door and turns to face Monroe. “If this is payback, it’s a really weird kind.”

Monroe looks at him like he’s an idiot, which is much more comfortably normal. “Hap just called me, and he was pissed-”

“ _Hap_ was pissed?” Nick asks, brows furrowing. 

“As pissed as Hap can ever – that’s not the point, Nick, this is serious. I don’t know what happened, but he was talking about how stupid I was and how disappointed he was in me and how the next time you made a move on me, I needed to do the right thing, so you need to call him and tell him that I didn’t do anything, that you didn’t make a move and he’s got this all wrong.” Monroe’s rambling, pacing and agitated and looking the slightest bit paranoid. 

“Monroe, I-” Nick starts, but realizes he has absolutely no idea what to say to that. “All right, you need to back up. Why would Hap care whether or not I made a move on you?” Aside from the obvious, and damn it, Hap, Nick had told him to drop it. 

“Why would – Nick, I know you can be an idiot, but _seriously_?” Monroe stops pacing, staring hard at Nick. “In case you hadn’t noticed by me pissing on my fence when we first met, Blutbaden are very territorial. That includes – no, that goes double, probably _triple_ for our mates. One Blutbaden taking another one’s mate, that’s – that’s a _huge_ deal, okay, and it’s not something I’d ever do, and definitely not something I want to get involved with.”

Nick tries to process that, but he has no idea what to make of it. “Okay, I’m trying to follow you here, man, but I have no idea what the hell you’re talking about.” 

Monroe throws his hands up. “We’re talking about you, and this thing that _didn’t happen_ , because somehow Hap found out about it, I don’t-”

“He found out about it because I told him!” Nick says, not quite shouting, because he’s starting to get angry. “I made a move on you, Monroe, and you shot me down, and I thought we were just going to ignore it for the sake of our – of our _friendship_ , and of you not rubbing that in my face, but apparently not. And Hap noticed the way I feel about you and he called me on it, okay?” 

“What are you, _insane_?” Monroe demands. “You _told_ him about it? There wasn’t even an _it_ , there was nothing-”

“Don’t you think I know that?” And now Nick is shouting, but he doesn’t care anymore. “Look, I’m sorry, Monroe. I can’t help the way I feel about you, and it’s not going away. I can ignore it, because I’d rather be friends with you than nothing at all, but I can’t _stop_ it. If you can’t deal with that, then I… I don’t know.” 

“Nick,” Monroe says quietly, like he’s lost, and can’t see his way around to being found. 

Nick doesn’t know how to tell him that he could be the one to find him, if Monroe would let him.

“You can’t do this, Nick,” Monroe tells him. “I know you, and you’re a better man than this. But I don’t know if I am.”

Nick opens his mouth, but closes it again, because he still has no idea what’s going on. “Monroe. I’m going to need you to start from the beginning. Why are you here?”

“I told you, man, Hap called, because apparently you told him you made a move on me. And that?” Monroe shakes his head. “Is going nowhere good.” 

Nick’s silent for a moment, flipping back through his mental transcript of this conversation, and starts to think maybe he has an idea of what Monroe’s talking about. “Do you think Hap and I are – do you think there’s something between us?”

Monroe starts to say something, then freezes. “…I did right up until you asked me that question. Now I’m just really confused.” 

“Monroe, Hap and I are just friends. Really good friends, but friends. I’m pretty sure he’d be kind of grossed out by the suggestion, actually.” The realization of exactly what this means hits him. “Jesus, Monroe, you thought I-”

“I didn’t know what to think!” Monroe pushes his hand through his hair in obvious frustration, leaving it standing up in little waves. “You two are always spending time together-”

“Almost as much time as I spend with you,” Nick points out.

“And you’re so happy together-”

“Almost as happy as I am with you.” 

“Will you stop that?” Monroe snaps, then flicks his eyes away. “Yes, okay, I thought you were together. And I was jealous, all right? I never thought you’d go for a guy, especially not a Blutbad, but if you ever were, I’d hoped it – but it was stupid, I knew there was no chance you’d ever want me. And I was happy for you, okay, just like I was when it was Juliette, I just want you to be happy.”

“Monroe,” Nick starts.

“No, don’t, if you start talking, I won’t finish this, so just shut up,” Monroe tells him. “And then, that night at my place, I thought it was just my wishful thinking, just me reading what I wanted into the situation, and I couldn’t do that, I can’t. But then last night, you were there with me, and then tonight Hap called, and I – I _hoped_ , Nick, and it was horrible, because you two are my best friends. You’re the only friends I have, and I was hoping you’d break up.” 

Nick takes a few steps closer to him. “Are you telling me that you’ve actually had feelings for me for a long time, and the only reason you didn’t do anything about it is because first you thought I wouldn’t want you, and then you thought I was dating Hap?”

Monroe looks uncertain, as if he’s not sure that’s not a trick question. “Yes?”

Nick grabs the front of Monroe’s sweater and yanks him in, crowding into Monroe’s personal space to kiss him. “I’m not dating Hap,” he says in between quick, biting kisses. “I’ve never dated Hap. Hap and I have never been interested in each other. I _have_ been interested in you for months, and you are the biggest idiot I’ve ever met.” 

“I’d really like to protest that,” Monroe mutters. “But you’re making it really difficult.” 

“Because I’m right?” Nick asks. 

“No, because you keep kissing me,” Monroe replies. 

Nick pulls back, but Monroe grabs him, wrapping his arms around Nick and tugging him back in. 

“I didn’t say _stop_ ,” Monroe says, and kisses him. 

Nick grins through the kiss, wrapping his own arms around Monroe, hand settling automatically at the small of Monroe’s back. Then he hesitates, pulling back slightly. “Is this okay?”

“I told you, I trust you,” Monroe replies. 

“I know,” Nick says, smiling at him. “But trusting me not to use it against you and to protect it isn’t the same as you wanting me to touch it. I wasn’t sure if it’d hurt, or make you uncomfortable, or something.” 

“It doesn’t make me uncomfortable,” Monroe replies. “Because it’s you. It would if it was someone I didn’t trust. And no, it doesn’t hurt. As long as you don’t hit it or anything, it actually feels, um. Really nice.” 

Nick considers that, then raises an eyebrow. “Are you saying it turns you on?”

Monroe makes a face at him. “Thank you for turning that crude, but something like that, yes.”

Nick smirks. “I lied, then. I’m absolutely using that against you.” 

Monroe kisses him, and Nick returns it eagerly, hand rubbing soft, slow circles over Monroe’s lower back. Monroe makes a soft, contented sound, and Nick nips at his lower lip, to see if he can get him to do it again. He does, but after a moment, Monroe breaks the kiss. 

“We, uh. Shouldn’t get carried away,” Monroe says. 

“Why not?” Nick asks, leaning into him so that their lips are barely pressing together. “Apparently we could have been doing this for months. We have a lot of time to make up.” 

“Because – stop that – it’s complicated, Nick. I’ve never dated a human before,” Monroe admits. 

Nick, who’d been biting at Monroe’s lower lip, reluctantly stops. “I’m not technically human.”

“Close enough. You don’t know anything about Blutbad, uh.” Monroe falters.

“Mating habits?” Nick supplies. 

Monroe glares at him. “Again, crude, but yes. There’s… things, we need to talk about, before we…”

“Have sex?” Nick offers. “Fuck? Make love? Because I do, you know, I love y-”

Monroe kisses him, and it’s different this time, though no less passionate, it’s a little desperate. Nick wonders if it’s Monroe’s way of saying he loves him, too, and decides to let Monroe get away with cutting off the confession and not technically replying. 

Nick does get his hands under Monroe’s shirt, though, setting them on the bare skin of Monroe’s lower back and trailing his fingers lightly across it. Monroe’s hips jerk, pressing forward to grind against Nick’s, and Nick rocks back, doing it again. 

Monroe breaks the kiss, trying to glare at him, but he isn’t successful. “That’s cheating.” 

“Yup,” Nick says, unapologetic. 

“I meant it, Nick.” Monroe sounds reluctant, but serious. 

Nick has to admit he has a point. “Yeah. Okay. Let’s talk, then.”

“Now?” Monroe frowns. “It’s nearly midnight, and it’s not like we got a lot of sleep last night.”

“So you’re really just going to drop this on me, make out with me a bit, and then leave to go home and sleep alone?” Nick asks.

Monroe shifts uncomfortably. “No? When you say it like that…”

“Stay,” Nick says. “Please.”

Monroe looks torn. “Nick…”

“We don’t have to do anything. We don’t even have to talk. We can watch a movie or something. I just – want you here.” 

There’s no mistaking the affection in the look Monroe’s giving him, and it makes Nick’s pulse quicken a bit. 

“It’s impossible to say no to you when you do that earnest look thing, and I think you know that,” Monroe grumbles, but he follows Nick into the living room. 

Nick sits on the couch, and Monroe sits next to him, but Nick pulls him closer, until Monroe’s practically in his lap. 

“This is not helping,” Monroe mutters, but his arms are already wrapping around Nick. 

“I didn’t drag you upstairs, I should be getting a million points for that,” Nick replies. 

Monroe snorts. “Weren’t you going to put on a movie?” 

Nick does, and they sort of watch for a little bit, though it’s difficult with both of them sitting sideways on the couch. 

“Can I ask you something?” Nick ventures after a while. 

“Sure,” Monroe says. 

“Earlier, you said one Blutbaden taking another’s mate was a big deal. Why?” Nick asks.

Monroe shifts. “Aside from the obvious territorial and possessive issues? Mates are – well, they’re kind of hard to find, and normally it’s sort of a once in a lifetime kind of deal, like humans are always talking about ‘the one.’”

Nick considers that. “Shouldn’t you have known that I wasn’t Hap’s, then?”

“It’s not an exact science, Nick, it’s not like there’s some mystical bond between mates or something. We have to figure it out pretty much the same way that humans do, although at least we have the added benefit of smell and looks and body language, which can be helpful, but can also just be confusing,” Monroe says. 

“So… what does all that tell you about me?” Nick asks.

Monroe sighs. “Really?”

“I want to know,” Nick insists. “Please?”

“I already told you that you smell like pack,” Monroe says, looking away from him. “And – I don’t know. You smell like home, and it feels safe, and when you look at me like you trust me, I want to do anything to prove that you can, and when you stand too close I want you to stand closer, so maybe you’ll notice I’m offering my neck and-” 

Monroe cuts off suddenly, but Nick doesn’t really need to hear the rest of it to know where he’d been going. He has done some reading, after all. …and some watching of wolf documentaries. 

“So,” Nick says. “Biting, that’s a thing for you guys?” 

“It’s like you’re purposely phrasing everything to sound the worst it possibly could,” Monroe mutters. 

Nick’s not actually sure if Monroe’s serious, so he just offers, “Sorry. I didn’t mean to.” 

“It wouldn’t be you if you didn’t,” Monroe says. “And yes, kind of. That’s why I said we needed to talk before, uh, you know, anything happens, because there’s stuff like that you don’t know.” 

“Whatever it is, Monroe, it doesn’t matter,” Nick tells him. 

“You say that now,” Monroe mutters. 

“Yeah, I do. Because I’m in love with you, so anything else kind of pales in comparison to that,” Nick says. 

Monroe looks startled, like Nick hadn’t said that before, like he can’t believe Nick means it. After a moment, he says, “I love you, t-”

Nick’s the one who cuts him off this time, though not with a kiss, instead by tilting his head down and biting Monroe’s neck. Monroe’s arms tighten around him, and then Monroe melts into him. Nick shifts slightly so his neck is more exposed to Monroe, just in case, and apparently Monroe’s good with that, because he bites him back. 

Monroe’s teeth are just over his pulse point, not breaking the skin, but hard enough to leave indents. He lets go and licks at them, then bites again. Nick copies the movements, and then repeats them. After a few moments, Nick pulls back, grinning at Monroe. 

Monroe smiles back, looking dazed, and then he groans. “So much for not doing anything.”

Nick frowns. “That counts as doing something?”

“Yes,” Monroe says. “Even though you have no idea what you just did.”

“I bit you,” Nick replies, raising an eyebrow. “Like you said you wanted.”

“You claimed me,” Monroe corrects. “And then you let me claim you.” 

…apparently Nick hadn’t really known what he was doing. “So?” 

“So this – okay, traditionally it’s a signal that tells other Wesen ‘get the hell away, don’t touch what’s mine,’ but admittedly, that’s fallen a little bit out of practice since humans got so interested in leaving hickies all over each other and there was a lot of confusion. But the meaning is still _there_ , especially for pack-oriented Wesen, that we belong to each other,” Monroe says. 

“…oh.” 

“Yes, _oh_. See, this is why I said we shouldn’t do anything without-” Monroe cuts off with an undignified, slightly squeaky sound.

Likely because Nick’s just bit him again. “I didn’t say that was a bad oh.” 

“…oh.” Monroe stares at him. 

“Yeah, oh.” Nick rests his forehead against Monroe’s. “I know this isn’t going to be easy. But have some faith that I’m not going to react as badly as you seem to think.” 

“It’s just – you shouldn’t have to put up with the Blutbad stuff, when you’re not one.”

“But you are,” Nick says.

“I’m not expecting anything,” Monroe replies. “Just having you is enough.”

“You should expect everything, Monroe, because it’s what you deserve,” Nick tells him.

There’s a pause.

“I cannot believe you actually just said that. Are you sure you’re not drunk? That was sappy, even for you,” Monroe says, trying not to laugh, but it doesn’t quite hide the pleasure in his voice.

“Shut up,” Nick mutters. “It’s late and I’m tired, and you’re the one trying to be all self sacrificing and cute.”

“I’m not cute,” Monroe grumbles.

“Yes, you are. You’re very cute, especially when you’re trying to grumble at me.” 

Monroe shuts him up with a kiss. 

“You’re right, that it’s late, though,” Monroe says when they break apart. 

“So let’s go upstairs,” Nick says. 

“Nick…”

“Just to sleep,” Nick tells him. “I promise, Monroe, I won’t do anything like that again. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” 

“Right, because sleeping in the same bed as you with a ‘don’t do anything’ rule is going to be anything but uncomfortable,” Monroe mutters. “Are you sure this isn’t a ploy to get in my pants?”

“Everything I do is a ploy to get into your pants. Starting with the wall pinning and the ’78 Bordeaux,” Nick replies automatically, then shakes his head. “But no. I just sleep better, when you’re around.” 

Monroe’s silent for a moment. Then, “So do I.” 

Nick takes that as a yes, and gently pushes Monroe out of his lap, standing up and taking Monroe’s hand to pull him up as well. He doesn’t let go of Monroe’s hand while they walk up the stairs, until they reach Nick’s bedroom. 

“I have some sweats that’re too big on me, if you want,” Nick offers. 

Monroe shakes his head. “It’s fine.” 

He starts stripping, pulling off his sweater and flannel button up, leaving on his white undershirt, and folding them neatly, placing them on top of Nick’s dresser. 

Nick’s already dressed for bed, so he just watches, as Monroe tugs down his jeans and folds them up as well, then glances up to catch Nick looking at him. For a brief moment Monroe looks away, then he seems to reconsider and just stares back at Nick, gaze slightly heated. 

Nick steps forward and pulls Monroe in for a kiss, though he keeps it gentle, almost chaste. Then he breaks away and crawls into his bed. Monroe gets in on the other side, and Nick shuts off the light.

It’s awkward for a moment, both of them laying on their backs, not really knowing what to do. Then Nick rolls over onto his side, facing Monroe, and after a moment, Monroe follows suit. Nick wraps his arm around Monroe’s waist, hand settling at the dip in Monroe’s spine, and Monroe tilts his head down, forehead pressing against Nick’s. 

“You better not try anything in your sleep,” Monroe murmurs.

“No promises,” Nick replies, kissing him softly. 

Monroe snorts. “Good night, Nick.”

“Night,” Nick replies, closing his eyes.

And tonight, the Monroe that Nick falls asleep curled around is very, very real.

It’s better than he’d dreamed.


End file.
